Put Your Brave Face On
by MyNameIsDoodle
Summary: Kurt Hummel doesn't take his father's offer to attend Dalton. The bullying intensifies, and his relationship with Blaine blossoms. Karofsky despises himself and will do anything to prevent his sexuality being revealed. ON HIATUS.
1. Only Way Out Is Through

**This is set in the episode 'Furt' and Carole and Burt have offered Kurt the chance to leave McKinley to attend Dalton instead where he will be safer. In the episode, Kurt leaves...but in my version, he decides to stay. I am a massive fan of the show, and I admit the main attraction is Kurt. I know what he went through, being a gay teenager myself it was difficult and he represents everything I should have been like, he says all the things I should have said to my tormenters and I admire him for that. Any homophobic comments will instantly deleted and the perpetrator will be blocked. I will not let that poison linger around any of my stories. I sadly do not own Kurt Hummel or Glee.**

**Please review...it puts crumbs of pride on the table for my family of self-confidences ~ Maisy-Shane x**

Whenever Kurt Hummel came out as gay to someone, he couldn't help but notice the gears in their heads begin to shift, starting to mesh and make sense. But the one thing he saw in their eyes, the one thing that crossed their mind immediately after he revealed his sexuality, was: why did he choose to be gay? Some people had actually voiced this question, and whenever they did he would walk away. They assumed he had consciously chosen his sexual orientation; they wondered what had triggered such a choice, perhaps a negative past with the opposite sex? Perhaps no past with the opposite sex because he couldn't get any? Or maybe he'd never tasted a true woman [insert grotesque thrust here].

Kurt didn't decide to be gay, no one did unless they were merely pretending and that facade really didn't last very long, just like Kurt's facade of being heterosexual didn't last long at all. Maybe a day or so. But despite this fact, people didn't stop blaming him for being gay. People declared that he had given into temptation, that he was a sinner or some of that bullshit. That kind of talk made Kurt lose faith with God, and day by day he was losing faith in people.

People like Dave Karofsky.

The way Dave Karofsky looked at him, Kurt knew that every inch of Karofsky's peculiarly underdeveloped brain was attempting to work out what had made him decide to be gay. Whatever the reason, Karofsky hated it and he wanted to beat it out of Kurt. To Dave, the reason Kurt was gay was sitting inside him like a tumour. And recently, he discovered he had the exact same thing. Karofsky realised that he wasn't that different from Kurt, and that sickened him. It shook his very core. He wanted to blame someone, and since Kurt was the only gay person he knew, he chose to blame him. Lashing out made Karofsky feel like he was battling his own inner demons, his inner emotions. Though Kurt desperately wanted to sympathise, he struggled to...and for good reason.

Dave Karofsky had stolen Kurt's first kiss...well one that counted, and then he threatened his life if he ever told anyone about it. Ever since he'd been sexually aware, Kurt had fantasized about his first ever kiss, how he'd tilt his head ever so slightly to the right, how he'd keep his eyes locked with whoever was kissing him and then eventually let his eyelids droop and spin out of control into the flurrying array of emotions that would explode inside of him. Of course, nothing could ever have fulfilled Kurt's wild expectation of what his first kiss would be like, but at least he could have chosen who he was sharing that special moment with. Unfortunately, even that was taken away from him.

The rough, sport damaged hands had clutched his head somewhat harshly, tugging him in so their lips collided like two opposing cars. Whilst Karofsky soared into those emotions, Kurt simply skidded and felt that dream burst into fierce flames. Karofsky had pulled away, a whimper leaving his mouth. He went in for a second kiss, but Kurt had denied him that, leaping backwards. He didn't want to hurt the other boy's feelings...he just couldn't believe that the person who had shoved him into lockers had just shoved his lips against his in an almost romantic, desperate way.

Then things just became darker. Karofsky was hurt by the rejection, and was fuming over the fact he had been turned down by a homo, someone who, in his mind, would do anything to someone of the same gender. Being rejected by that prissy faggot burned him to his very core, and he then grew scared. Terrified that the little queer would go running to his friends, laughing over how he turned Karofsky down, how pathetic and gay he was. So, Karofsky did what he knew best. He used violence as a tool of control. He threatened Kurt's life.

It wasn't long before the adults found out, and each of them was furious. Principal Sylvester, though exteriorly calm and collected, clenched her jaw. Burt Hummel, not so discreet about his rage, bore his eyes into Dave's. Paul Karofsky, his own father, turned against him. And Dave Karofsky was expelled.

"This psycho threatens my kid's life and some school board made up of a bunch of people I've never even heard of, say there's nothing they can do about it," Burt Hummel fumed, his hands clutched tightly together like Dave's throat was in between them.

Kurt sat between his dad and step-mom, staring in horror at Principal Sue Sylvester's face. He couldn't help but think about the time he was last in this office, how Sue had expelled his tormenter in one swift, fatal swoop. All of those worries, all of those fears, were thrown onto the fire and he had admired how quickly they melted away. Now, he'd discovered they weren't damaged in the least and had returned bright and new...and just as petrifying. Words flew right over his head, reasons and excuses charging right through him and he just focused on distinguishing the tears teetering at the edge, ready to commit suicide to leap down his cheeks to their certain death.

When the Hummels were dismissed, Kurt had to swallow his tears and collect his posture, not wanting to be seen quivering and looking utterly defeated. No, this couldn't beat him. He was so much stronger than this, he had to keep moving on...but the dread lingered over him and he felt his voice wobble when he spoke.

"I'll see you at home..." he breathed, making to turn away before he collapsed into a fit of tears.

"Hey Kurt...wait up a second..." Burt Hummel called.

Next thing Kurt knew, he was standing out in the parking lot, arms crossed across his chest as he awaited this big thing his dad wanted to discuss with him. He kind of wished Carole wasn't standing there, looking up full of sympathy. Not that he didn't want her around; just that she was new to the homophobia, new to dealing with a gay child. His dad was better at handling these kinds of situations...kind of.

"What is it, Dad?" Kurt said after Burt and Carole exchanged another sideways glance, communicating mutely through mere eye contact and it made Kurt feel out of place though he was the topic of discussion. "Glee Club starts in half an hour and I want to...pull myself together before I tell the others the news."

His dad looked at him at long last and pressed his lips awkwardly together. "Carole and I have been talking about this ever since we found out about that Karofsky kid. We wanted to make a backup plan in case anything like that happened again...since it's come to that, I want to officially give you the option to leave McKinley and study at Dalton."

Kurt blinked rapidly as his stomach somersaulted and his heart clenched in his chest, the breath in his nostrils catching making a strange small sound. He cast his eyes downwards as he thought of Blaine...a selfish part of him thought about the Dalton boy, how they would grow closer being at the same school and maybe fall into some sort of romantic situation. A flush of warmth spread over Kurt's mouth as he imagined their first kiss, Blaine's lips against his own but then the chapped ones of Karofsky's crept over it and caused him to shudder.

"Kurt, we kinda need an answer now," Burt Hummel cut into Kurt's consciousness.

"He's right, sweetie," Carole joined in, linking her arm with his father's. "We've contacted Dalton already, but they want an answer as soon as possible because...well so many people apply to transfer there. We only got considered because of Principal Sylvester's...persuading techniques." She gave an awkward half smile. "The sooner we call them, the more likely it is you'll be accepted."

Kurt inhaled deeply, his lungs feeling tight and compressed, like they were refusing the oxygen he breathed. He swiped a tongue over his extremely dry lips. The fading bruises from Karofsky's shoves into the metal lockers on Kurt's back ached as if they too were pleading with him to consider the offer, to say yes a thousand times over. Even though he knew the zero tolerance for bullying would protect him, and even though the concept of spending more time with Blaine Anderson made him want to clap his hands together and smile non-stop, something stopped him. A stab of doubt plunged into his chest and his hands remained bound to his chest, the throbbing of his heart banging against his arm. His dad opened his mouth as if to repeat the last statement made by his wife in case his son hadn't heard but Kurt interrupted him.

"Homophobia's everywhere," Kurt murmured lowly, not meeting any of their gazes. "I can't run away from it...Dalton is the safer option, of course, but..." he sighed, shaking his head as he finally looked up. "I have too much here to run away. I have my friends, I have Glee Club. If I run away, what am I saying to all the closeted gays here at this school? Don't come out, and if you do run as fast as you can? No..."

"Kurt, you're not a frigging martyr," Burt Hummel said, his voice firm though concerned. "Okay? You're not risking your safety for the benefit of all the other gays at your school, provided there is any. Listen to me; you're my son, Kurt. Your safety comes first no matter what the situation is. Carole and I are giving you the money saved for our honeymoon to pay for the tuition, and I_** insist**_ that you take this offer. That kid threatened your life...and if anything happened to you..." his voice cracked with suppressed tears, eyes shining though he briskly rubbed them away.

"Dad," Kurt sighed, a vice gripping his heart at the mere sight of his dad crying over his well-being. Guilt rippled inside of him, and he just wanted to say yes but, again, he couldn't. "I'm staying at McKinley. You heard Principal Sue; she's going to be an extra pair of eyes. Who knows, maybe Karofsky won't pull another stunt knowing he'll be expelled if she or anyone else catches sight of him. The Glee Club have my back, so does Sue, Mr. Schue, and my brother. I'm not alone anymore."

"I can't force you to change your mind," Burt admitted reluctantly, readjusting his baseball cap out of discomfort. "I will just ask you one more time. Don't answer now," he held up a hand when Kurt went to reply. "I will ask you tomorrow; give you some time to sleep on it. Carole and I leave for our honeymoon tomorrow evening if you still refuse. Just think about it, okay, Kurt? For me?"

Kurt hesitated momentarily, wondering that if he left this question too long that he will realise how stupid it was and he'd chicken out of staying. He gave a meek nod, letting his arms fall down as his father crossed over quickly to embrace him, the hug he received whenever the pair had argued or conquered another hardship.

"I love you," Burt reminded him, squeezing him tightly.

"I love you too," Kurt returned, resting his cheek on his dad's shoulder, closing his eyes allowing those tears to skid down his face.

**000**

Glee Club was sitting there, as he was a little over three minutes late, already in the midst of Mr. Schue's introduction to the session.

"Come on guys, the wedding was great but we have got to get ready for sectionals next week," Will Schue was saying enthusiastically, interrupting the small talk being exchanged between the club members. When he saw Kurt, a crooked half smile crossed his mouth. "Kurt, good I wanna talk to you about this amazing idea of a solo for you at Sectionals."

"Can I make an announcement first?" Kurt asked, attempting to maintain a straight face. When the teacher nodded, Kurt turned to face his fellow club members. He considered telling them...no, a massive part of him wanted to tell them. To hear what they had to say about it, to hear their opinions, but most of all have their permission for him to go. Kurt couldn't do that though, a part of his nature was that he had to go through everything alone. People seeing him vulnerable...made him extremely uncomfortable. So, despite desiring comfort from his newfound group of friends, he swept that part of the announcement under the carpet.

"I want to thank everyone for what you did at my dad's wedding, especially Finn," Kurt struggled not to choke on his words, a sob threatening to break loose. "It's nice to know I have true friends here, as well as a true brother. Um..." he dropped his eyes down to his hands, noticing that they were trembling. When he closed his eyes, he could've sworn he heard the words 'I'm gonna kill you' hiss in his ear. Steadying himself, he reopened them and looked on at his friends, who peered up at him with anticipation and sympathy. Kurt looked at Mr. Schue. "Is it okay if...if I sing something?"

Mr. Schue blinked but that was followed by another smile, collecting the music sheets and gesturing that the floor was Kurt's, taking a seat next to Brittany. Kurt uneasily licked his lips, standing there before his friends awkwardly, the heat scorching his face as he blushed, opening his mouth, unaccompanied by music:

"**Every time you raise your voice****  
****I see the greener grass****  
****Every time you run for cover****  
****I see this pasture****  
****Every time we're in a funk****  
****I picture a different choice****  
****Every time we're in a rut****  
****This distant grandeur**

**My tendency to want to do away feels natural and****  
****My urgency to dream of softer places feels understandable**

**The only way out is through****  
****The faster we're in the better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately****  
****The only way out is through****  
****The only way we'll feel better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately**

**Every time I'm confused****  
****I think there must be easier ways****  
****Every time our horns are locked I'm towel throwing****  
****Every time we're at a loss, we've bolted from difficulty****  
****Anytime we're in stalemate of final bowing**

**My tendency to want to hide away feels easier and****  
****The immediacy is picturing another place comforting to go**

**The only way out is through****  
****The faster we're in the better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately****  
****The only way out is through****  
****The only way we'll feel better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately**

**We could just walk away and hide our heads in the sand****  
****We could just call it quits, only to start all over again****  
****With somebody else**

**Every time we're stuck in struggle, I'm down for the count that day****  
****Every time I dream of quick fix I'm assuaged****  
****Now I know it's hard when it's through****  
****And I'm damned if I don't know quick fix way****  
****But formerly mistreat me silence now outdated**

**My tendency to want to run feels unnatural now****  
****The urgency to want to give to you I don't want most feels good**

**The only way out is through****  
****The faster we're in the better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately****  
****The only way out is through****  
****The only way we'll feel better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately**

**The only way out is through****  
****The faster we're in the better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately****  
****The only way out is through****  
****The only way we'll get better****  
****The only way out is through ultimately**..."**  
**

Kurt allowed his voice to drift, shuffling his feet in the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room that was being gulped by silence. Mr. Schue, as usual, led the applause, though the claps sounded confused rather than enthusiastic or impressed. Kurt would've usually demanded what had been wrong with his performance, but he understood that it wasn't that he didn't sing it well, but that no one understood why he had chosen that song. They had all probably been expecting an upbeat tune with thank yous being thrown around like confetti. But that wasn't the case, and they sat there, staring up at the figure of Kurt Hummel that seemed to shrink before their eyes as he took up his satchel, taking a seat at the back of the group, not looking or speaking to anyone. At least the song had helped Kurt make up his mind...

**000**

Kurt received a text from his step-brother during Glee Club, which read: _**I'll give you a lift home need to talk, **_though of course this was a neat and decipherable version compared to Finn's rather misspelt and rushed text.

Kurt felt Finn's eyes on him, as if he was waiting for Kurt to meet his gaze for the first time since the session had started. Kurt simply put his phone back in his pocket and folded his arms, watching Mr. Schue keenly to ignore the stare his step-brother was giving him. Glee Club was uncharacteristically uncomfortable, everyone speaking much less than usual, apart from Rachel who seemed to be speaking more, every now and then jerking her head from Finn's shoulder to raise her hand in the air though no one was battling her for their chance to speak.

Kurt's mind was slipping away, however, and he found himself thinking about Karofsky, the ghost of the rough kiss covering his mouth, suffocating him. He subconsciously brought his fingers to his lips, running them over slowly. When Karofsky had gone in for a second time, what had he wanted? Another kiss? Or maybe more...Kurt tensed at the thought of Karofsky shoving him against the locker to take not only his first kiss but also his first time. He started to visibly shake, bouncing his knee up and down as he started to wonder what would have happened to him if he hadn't have pushed the other boy away, what would have became of him? Would they have been caught and Karofsky expelled? Would Kurt even be sitting there now with the same concerns throbbing in his skull? Would he be worrying about his bully returning to the school, or would he be joining in the group discussion, fighting Rachel for his chance to speak, sitting aside Mercedes exchanging eye rolls and smirks whenever Rachel was shot down or whenever Brittany gave one of her nonsensical trademark responses?

The bell screeched out and Mr. Schue brought his hands together, rubbing them slightly, eyes looking at the clock to confirm that it was time to leave.

"Okay, everyone, tomorrow we'll start looking at solos," he declared as the members began to collect their stuff. "Go through your music tonight, find songs you'll think will be good for Sectionals and bring them back to me. I want to try to showcase everyone this time! So Rachel, that means that you may not get a solo..."

As Rachel burst into a rant that was on the brink of becoming a full blown tantrum, everyone dispersed and Kurt was grateful no one approached him apart from Finn, who waited for him.

"Hey, Kurt, wait for me by your locker," Finn said softly to his step-brother. "I'll just wait for Rachel to finish her rant and then I'll meet you there. Don't run off without me 'cos I will catch up to you. I should be out in like five minutes." When Rachel's pitch reached a new height, he cringed before adding: "Make that fifteen."

Kurt firstly intended to disobey his step-brother's request, just walk home to have some thinking time to himself but he knew that he couldn't keep Finn in the dark. If he didn't tell him, his dad and Carole would. So he stood by his locker, his back against the metal so he could keep an eye out for Finn. He couldn't help the fear that snuck into his consciousness, eyes darting around in case Karofsky would suddenly appear. Kurt hugged himself, imagining it was his dad who was holding him, protecting him from the bad things the world had to offer. He swallowed hard as a lump that he was pretty sure was his heart rose in his throat, gaining slight comfort from the distant sound of Rachel shouting in the distance. The school was kind of empty at this point, cars pulling away, stray students who had stayed behind after class now making their way through the hall, checking their phones or rereading notes made by their teachers on their work.

No one seemed to notice how Kurt's back was pressed firmly against his locker, pushing himself flatter against it whenever they went past him. He cursed Finn in his head, knowing he'd be a quarter of the way home by now if he had just walked. He took out his phone to text him when he saw he had three missed calls and a text. He tutted as he saw the calls were all off of his dad, expecting the text to be from him too demanding where he was. But, to his surprise, it wasn't Burt Hummel's capital lettered text with numerous spelling errors. It was a tidy text; correct spelling of everything with one smiley face rather than the fifteen his father tried to squeeze into every sentence.

**Hey, Kurt. I was wondering if you wanted to get a coffee over the weekend. My treat of course and then maybe see a movie? Sorry no musicals out right now but I'm sure you can get through a film without a musical number – Blaine :)**

A smile crept onto Kurt's face which quickly transitioned into a wide grin and he bit his bottom lip, feeling his body turn slightly to the left and then to the right. He reread it again and again, trying to analyse every single thing that was written, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind each of the words. My treat, eh? Kurt pondered on whether it was a date or not, and thought to ask Mercedes later.

"Kurt."

In his utter panic, Kurt dropped his phone on the floor, blood running suddenly cold in his veins and his skin prickling as if it had leapt from his very body and had quickly reattached itself. Finn stood there in front of him, eyes wide in bewilderment and shock. Never had he seen Kurt so jumpy.

"God dammit, Finn!" Kurt yelled, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve as they felt damp, diving to the ground to collect his phone. Fear forgotten, it was replaced by anger as he saw a crack on the screen. "Look what you did you idiot!"

Finn put his hands up in surrender. "Jeez, sorry man I didn't mean to. I-I'll pay for a new one..."

"With what money, genius?" Kurt snapped, swearing under his breath when his phone's screen remained black. "My dad just bought me this. Urgh, he's going to be so pissed off at me."

"No I'll take the blame, man, I swear," Finn remained calm, not raising his voice in the slightest and that drove Kurt insane. "I'll explain it was my fault." When silence fell between them, he spoke gently. "Why did you jump so much, dude? It's like you were waiting to be pounced on."

"I-it's nothing," Kurt muttered, pushing his phone into his bag for the mere sight of it made his blood boil.

"You always were a crappy liar, Kurt," Finn said, earning a defiant stare. "I don't get what's your deal. What was with that song in Glee Club today? It was like...like you were saying you have to fight something. Is there someone else who's bullying you? If there is, you can totally tell me and I'll beat them down, I swear it to you. I got your back, remember?"

"It's no one new, Finn," Kurt retorted. "I chose that song because it's showing how I'm getting through the whole K-Karofsky thing and putting it behind me. It's over, finished." Why was he lying? There was no point, his dad and Carole would explain, and it would be pretty damn obvious when Dave Karofsky reappeared in the corridors. But Kurt couldn't tell him, he didn't want to. So he just gritted his teeth and raised an eyebrow. "Can we just go now please? I have a lot of homework to do."

"Fine, whatever," Finn grumbled, blatantly annoyed. Finn felt left in the dark, and he knew something was going down. Kurt had been so happy at school ever since Karofsky had been expelled, and then all of a sudden he's called into Sue's office and is then is all antisocial and pissy and nervous. Something was totally going down, and Finn was going to find out, be it from Kurt or from his mom and step-dad.

**TBC**

**The song I used is "Out Is Through" by Alanis Morisette; the song choice was utterly random whilst I was writing this. I bought the song and was listening to it when I realised the words went so well with Kurt and Karofsky's situation. It's all about getting through the worse and not running away, and that is what Kurt is desperately trying to do.**

**I will state right now that I do not support the whole Kurt and Karofsky pairing. A lot of readers absolutely adore them as a couple, since they sympathise with Karofsky and just want him to be happy etc. I do like the whole Karofsky storyline because that does happen, but I do not see him with Kurt simply because I have been through homophobic bullying and I for one would not happily fall in love or even want to be involved with any of those people who made my days miserable just because they said sorry or just because they were scared. Everyone hates themselves when they first realise their sexuality, they feel disgusting and scared, scared to lose family and friends, about hell etc. But when a gay person acts out at other gay people with violence, they will never be truly comfortable with their sexual orientation and they could basically explode into a fit of rage/violence at any point. I for one would not feel safe being in a relationship with someone who used to physically harm me; just stating my opinion.**

**Please review and thank you for reading. This will be continued shortly. **


	2. I Hate To Love You

Dave Karofsky tried to ignore the way his parents were glowering at him, the way they were speaking stiffly to him as if he were a stranger or irritating acquaintance they couldn't wait to shake off. He sat hunched in his room, his knuckles almost stark white due to the force behind his clenched fists, jaw clamped to suffocate any noise he may make that would label him as weak, as pathetic. Like that moan that had escaped his mouth after kissing Hummel...Dave felt abruptly sick. His parents had fought for him, challenging the school board to get their son back into McKinley but even though they were successful, they still seemed pissed off with him.

"If I hear you've been harassing that Hummel boy again," his mother had warned; eyes parallel to his own narrowing. "I will be so disappointed in you, David."

Dave wanted to talk to someone, someone he could trust but he knew the likelihood of this happening was near enough nonexistent. These feelings Hummel was making him have, these desires and sick thoughts, were all down to that sick queer. Dave wasn't sure what had happened to make him this way, but he didn't like it and wanted it gone. He wanted to be normal again. To be able to watch porn in his room without his eyes on the man; to enthuse about a hot girl with his friends without his thoughts drifting to Hummel. He was certain that the moment the queen left, he would go back to normal. It was only Hummel, only him, so it was his fault. It was him who'd made Dave that way and Dave had to fix it by himself.

Once, a while before he threatened Hummel's life, he decided to indirectly ask Azimo for help in hopes that talking to someone would make him feel less isolated; however, the answer he got was not one he was looking for.

"Why do you think Hummel's a faggot?" Dave had asked nonchalantly after Azimo had given the queer a thump in the arm whilst passing him in the hall.

Azimo sucked his teeth. "Man, that guy's a queer 'cos he chose to be. I dunno the ins and outs of his butt fucking lifestyle. But what I do know though man, things are meant to come out where people like him put things in. It's fucking disgusting man."

What Azimo said, didn't make Karofsky feel any better. He felt like a thick layer of filth had just moulded over his skin, dirt he couldn't get off. He'd just agreed, faking a sneer as he fist-bumped his friend, but his gut was churning. He was disgusting. He was wrong. Dave damned himself to hell whenever he saw Hummel in the hallway and had begun to admire what he'd got on. Those clothes Hummel always wore, always hugging his body in the right places, the way his green-blue eyes seemed to hover over everyone despite being a lot shorter than a majority of the male population at the school. The fag looked like he owned the place, like everyone was below him, and Dave despised it.

Just thinking about Hummel made Dave feel a range of things, though the most vibrant of those emotions was not hatred, not loathing. It was lust. Dave was quite clear on that, it wasn't love, it was merely lust. He hadn't gotten any in ages, and there was that queer flaunting himself around like a girl, throwing Dave's mind out of whack. Even an under the duvet session was out of the question now because every time he pictured a big breasted woman taking off her shirt, she suddenly became Hummel. The faggot would always saunter over to him, his very movements like a flirtatious girl and then he'd bite Dave's lip, hard. That was usually the time Dave would snap back to reality, bolting up in his bed ashamed of his nakedness and of his itching desire to continue the fantasy.

Dave ran a hand through his hair.

"_**I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty!**_"

He dropped his hands as if the mere touch had scalded his skin. The way Hummel had looked at him, the fright, the loss of control, the hurt all burning there. And there was something else too...resentment. Hummel hated him just as much as Dave hated him. And that...that hurt. For some reason, what Hummel had said caused Dave's chest to ache. It had hurt. No one had hurt Dave as much as Hummel had done then. And he didn't understand why. He shouldn't care what the queer thought; he shouldn't care what the homo felt. If he did, then why did he torment him? Dave lost it.

"_**GET OUT OF MY FACE!**_"

But Hummel didn't run. He still stood there, not shifting, not wavering. He wasn't going to back down. Not even Finn had looked at Dave that way, never wore that challenging expression, never looked so fierce and determined. Dave couldn't restrain himself. He wanted to beat the shit out of the queer, wanted to see him cry, and then he would boast about it to all of his friends later, exaggerating all of the gory details as the faggot begged for his life.

Dave didn't do that. Instead, he kissed him.

A knock on Dave Karofsky's door made him recoil, rubbing his tired eyes before hoarsely giving the person on the other side permission to come in. His father stood there, looking as if he really didn't want to be there and was doing it out of principal.

"David, you're going back to school tomorrow," Paul Karofsky said slowly, not moving any closer to his son to exchange these words, instead remaining in the doorway. "And I want you to apologise to Kurt Hummel. What you did..."

"Dad, I told you I didn't do it!" Dave burst out, his tongue stumbling in his mouth as he tried not to think about Hummel...and that secret kiss they shared. "That f—kid was lying! I explained this! Otherwise I'd still be frigging expelled!"

Paul Karofsky's face tightened. "David, why are you talking to me like this? I'm not Azimo, I'm not a kid from school I'm your father and I demand respect from you! Is that clear? Now, you apologise to Kurt. Even if you didn't threaten to kill him, he had good reason to say such a thing. If I find out you're still bullying him, I will pull you out of that school myself and we'll leave Ohio. Is that understood, David? The only reason we challenged the school board is because your mom wanted you to graduate here."

Dave wanted to argue, wanted to make his father believe that he didn't threaten Hummel, anything to make his dad look at him properly again. He didn't protest, he just nodded curtly and he was left alone again. Dave punched his bed hard out of sheer frustration. No way was Hummel getting away with this. If the fucking queer had just kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

**000**

Kurt held the house phone tightly in his hands as he paced the floor of his basement, looking up at the ceiling and around his room for some sort of inspiration, though he was uncertain why a poster of Lady Gaga would give him any ideas on how to answer Blaine's text.

"Hey Blaine, sorry about not texting back," Kurt practised breathily, since he didn't want Finn to hear him upstairs. "My stupid step-brother broke—no wait, then he'd think you were petty." He chewed his bottom lip before starting afresh. "Hi Blaine, sorry for not texting you back earlier, I broke my phone. Finn said he'd buy me a new one but his wallet is that empty that if you opened it a moth would fly out. I actually found a dead moth in there once...it freaked me out. Urgh, no no that is _**waay**_ off track. Um...hm, so about coffee this weekend? Yeah I'm free you want to meet at my house at say one?"

Kurt puffed out his cheeks, rolling his eyes as he began to lose patience with himself. Texting was so much easier. No crack of the voice or stuttering would give you away if you were nervous. Plus, he'd have time to compose it properly and edit it. In person he had to be careful in case he panicked and started spewing a load of nonsense that would make Blaine think him an idiot. Kurt cursed himself for not knowing much about the whole dating scene...

"Whoa it's not even a date," he murmured, throwing himself down on the sofa and leaning his cheek against his hand. Then he suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide. "Is it a date? No, no it isn't a date. He just asked you for coffee...we've been out for coffee before..." he was about to settle down when he noticed. "Wait...cinema. Movies means date right? It's not a date if there's a group of friends and if it's a girl..." he clapped a hand to his mouth. "It's so a date!" he sprang to his feet and resumed his frantic pacing. "Oh my God what if he tries to kiss me? I'm so not ready for that! Urgh what if I'm a bad kisser! What if it goes really bad and he doesn't want to see me ever again? I'm not ready for it, nuh uh...maybe I should say no? But I don't want to say no..."

Kurt hadn't realised his speaking volume had rose to near hysterical, his speed picking up as he strode back and forth across the floor. He was so caught up in himself that he didn't notice Finn coming down the stairs, stopping halfway down to stare at his step-brother, who was stomping to and fro with the house phone in one hand whilst the other was at his mouth, probably chewing his nails.

"Kurt, are you talking to yourself?" Finn asked, not as surprised when Kurt spun around, his expression a mixture of humiliation and fright.

After a few false starts, mouth opening and then jerkily closing, Kurt spoke. "No I'm not!" when Finn quirked his eyebrow, Kurt's defences toppled down and he allowed himself to drop back down on the sofa, putting his face in his hands.

Finn shuffled uneasily on his step. He had been raised an only child his entire life, and he was still adjusting to having a brother around. A part of him wondered if it'd be easier to have a straight brother, one like Puck, maybe things wouldn't be so awkward at times. He'd never really had to comfort another dude before; whenever one of his friends were down he'd just clap them on the back and that silent demonstration would suffice for the pair of them to go back to normal. But Kurt wasn't normal...was he? Finn shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Of course Kurt was normal. He'd treat him like any other guy, 'cos that's what Kurt was. Another guy.

Finn trod down the stairs and uncomfortably made his way over to his step-brother, who still had his head in his hands. Hovering for a few moments, Finn then took a seat next to Kurt. Kurt didn't give Finn's presence any recognition, not shifting his position, so Finn decided to deliver the man to man comfort technique. He raised his hand, holding it over Kurt's shoulder for a few seconds, having second thoughts and then he just went for it, patting the other boy's shoulder with a heavy hand.

Kurt immediately reacted, head snapping upwards with his mouth hanging open, brows creased into a frown as he touched his abused shoulder. Finn put his hands up in surrender, not entirely sure what to say. Okay, maybe Kurt wasn't exactly used to being manhandled or being handled roughly like Puck, Sam or Mike was.

"Ow!" Kurt exclaimed at long last. "What is your problem? Why did you hit me?"

"I didn't mean it!" Finn blurted out, not letting his hands drop. "I-I-I was trying to comfort you!"

"What so if Rachel needed comfort you'd hit her?"

"Yes! I mean no! It's...its different 'cos you're a guy and that's...that's how guys comfort each other."

Kurt blinked. He was kind of touched that Finn was treating him like any other guy...but not so thrilled about his now throbbing shoulder. "Well just...tap me next time you went all out on that comfort display."

Finn smiled uneasily. "Yeah, sorry about that, dude." He cast the silliness aside for a moment. "What's up?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "It's...boy troubles, you wouldn't understand." He felt his face burn like the sun was being held right in front of him.

Finn raised both of his eyebrows this time, again not quite sure how to approach the situation. How did a guy comfort another guy about being turned down or whatever...by another guy? Well with Puck he just gave him a punch in the arm and told him to forget whoever it was he was caught up on but that didn't seem appropriate after seeing Kurt's reaction to a pat on the back. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Try me," he offered. "I'll listen and I promise to give you my honest opinion, man. Brothers have each other's backs about these kinds of things, right?"

Kurt considered it. He couldn't believe he was actually going to talk to Finn about something as intimate and private as his love life. He hadn't even told Mercedes anything really, apart from that he liked Blaine but that was kind of obvious. He looked at Finn, looking back at how they used to be. Last year, he'd probably be turning on the flirt, crossing one leg over the other in Finn's direction, which was described as heated flirtation in one of Kurt's favourite movies '_**Clueless**_'. But now Kurt wasn't looking at Finn Hudson, a classmate and fellow Glee member. He was looking at his step-brother. He could trust Finn, they were pretty much family now at this point.

"Well...there's this boy called Blaine," Kurt explained, his mouth tingling at the very mention of the Dalton student. "He goes to Dalton Academy. I met him when you guys told me to spy on the enemy. I...I really like him, Finn, and he asked me to go get coffee and see a movie with him on the weekend. I'm not sure if it's a date or not but...if it is, I'm at a loss. I don't know what to say to him."

Finn listened, nodding here and there to prove he hadn't lost concentration was now thinking about Rachel's breasts and how they'd feel under the bra. In fact, Rachel's boobs didn't even cross his mind as he listened to Kurt pour out his heart to him.

"It sounds like you've never been on a date before..." Finn said, partly as joke, assuming every guy their age had went out on a date but when Kurt's eyes widened and his cheeks went even redder, Finn realised that it was exactly as it sounded. His mouth made a small 'o' shape and he looked away out of discomfort. Kurt also cast his eyes to the ground.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Kurt," Finn continued after a prolonged silence. "I'm not that surprised to be honest. Not because I think you're ugly or anything!" he hastily clarified after Kurt's hurt expression. "It's just...I don't know any other gay dudes so it's gotta be tough, right? To find someone? First dates are nothing to be scared of. It's good to be nervous, it's good because then that means you really like this person, that your feelings are true 'cos you don't want to disappoint them. I'm sure this Blaine guy likes you back...you guys do talk and hang out a lot, right? Well then you guys know a lot about each other already, no breaking the ice small talk. Just act like you do on a normal day out...the best thing is there's a bonus. Like the goodbye kiss."

To Finn's amazement, this seemed to make Kurt even more anxious.

"Don't tell me you've never kissed anyone before either!" Finn gasped before even thinking twice about what he said. Luckily, Kurt didn't seem to take offense.

"I have kissed people before..." Kurt clarified slowly, mind immediately replaying the way Karofsky had grabbed him. "But...I just don't think I'm a good kisser."

Finn nodded and then tensed up, edging away. "Dude, I'm cool with the gay thing but no way am I letting you perfect your kissing techniques on me!"

Kurt burst out laughing, and Finn edgily joined in as if he had intended it to be a joke. Kurt put a hand over his mouth to stifle the giggles, grinning widely at his step-brother.

"No worries there, Finn," he said, his voice bouncy with repressed laughs. After a few minutes, he dropped his hand to his lap, straightening out the creases on his pants. "Finn...what if he doesn't like me that way?"

Finn didn't need to think twice about his answer to this. "Why wouldn't he like you, Kurt?"

Kurt and Finn looked each other in the eye for a while, silently exchanging words of appreciation and respect. Finn clapped Kurt's knee before rising from his seat, jogging up the stairs. Kurt watched after his step-brother until the door clicked shut, and then cast his eyes down to the house phone. Biting his lip hard, he dialled Blaine's number before he could reconsider, before the doubts and concerns could smother him again.

The phone rang four times before Blaine chirpily answered.

"Helllooo?"

"Blaine? It's Kurt," Kurt said, heart pounding in his chest.

"Oh hey Kurt! What's up? I admit I'm a bit shocked you called, you usually text me."

"Yeah, my phone is currently awaiting burial. I dropped it today and it won't turn back on."

"That shocked that there are no musicals out right now?"

Kurt feigned shock and indignation. "Ah! How rude! I'll have you know I don't just like musicals."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, provided there's a good soundtrack and no 'I am your father' plot twists, I am sold."

Blaine laughed. "Well then, since there's no father twists in any movies out right now, I think it'll be quite easy to pick a film to watch. Is that you saying yes then?"

"Yeah, meet at my house at one on Saturday?"

"Certainly. I haven't seen you in ages..."

"You mean a week ago?"

"Seven days is quite long I'll have you know. I have to go, need to practice a solo. I think you'll want to hear it when it's done."

"Oooh, really? Can't wait. I'll see you Saturday? It's going to suck being unable to text."

"I'm sure you'll live. Besides, I prefer hearing your voice than reading what you have to say. Talk to you soon, Kurt. Bye."

"Bye, Blaine."

When the line went dead, Kurt hugged the phone to his hammering chest, squeezing his eyes shut. He checked the time and decided it was time to go to his moisturising routine. It wasn't until he was undressing fourty-five minutes later did he remember Karofsky's return.

Kurt stood with his back to the mirror, shirtless, and his head turned ajar so he could see his reflection. The bruises stood out dimly against his skin like smudges of dirt. Kurt gently ran a fingertip over the most recent one, which was probably inflicted a week or so ago. When he touched it, he hissed as a sharp sting erupted there like a tiny bomb of pain. Karofsky had shoved him into the locker so hard that time, Kurt had dropped to his knees, bag spilling out its contents like it was projectile vomiting all over the corridor floor. And no one stopped to help. No one asked if he was okay.

Kurt met his eyes in the mirror to see tears standing there. He allowed them to fall, closing his eyes, his lashes cold and damp against his skin. He was going to go back to that, all of the chest jabs, all of the glares, all of the threats, all of the clenched fists, all of the pushes, all of the thumps. Kurt wasn't sure he could go through all of that again. He frowned as he thought that, inhaling shakily and looking himself steadily in the eye again.

"The only way out is through," he muttered, turning away to apply his pyjama shirt. He slightly expected to feel better once the bruises were hidden but he didn't. He knew they were there, and he knew Karofsky was going to be at McKinley tomorrow. It was going to be unbearable.

Kurt didn't go upstairs for the remainder of the night, even when he heard his dad's gruff voice asking Finn where he was. He pretended to be fast asleep when his dad and Carole came down the stairs, calling softly for him. When Carole suggested Kurt may be ill, his dad clamped a hand over his forehead, the familiar scent of oil and the cologne Carole had bought him for his birthday hitting Kurt's nostrils. Kurt wanted to open his eyes and confess everything to his dad, to beg to go to Dalton Academy and to leave everything at McKinley behind. But he couldn't because he knew he wouldn't be able to. He wouldn't run away, he just wouldn't. Maybe it was him being stubborn, maybe it was him being plain idiotic, but leaving McKinley meant he was giving up to homophobia.

Homophobia was below him, it was pathetic, and Kurt wasn't that. He wasn't pathetic, he wasn't weak, and he wasn't going to leave out of fear. When his dad and Carole left, Kurt sat up in his bed, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his cheek there on his kneecap. He turned his mind away to Blaine, trying to busy himself by planning an outfit for Saturday but it was pointless. Dave Karofsky was coming back to tomorrow and he was not going to let Kurt get away for telling and nearly getting him expelled. No way.

**TBC**

**I was stunned with the amount of favourites and reviews I received in one day! I was really taken aback, and really happy so thank you so much to everyone who is interested in this story! Please leave reviews if you favourite this, let me know what you like, what you didn't like, what you want to happen, your opinions on Kurt and Glee and Karofsky. Anything just so I know what you guys as my readers think. This chapter is a bit shorter than the last and that is because I needed a chapter to establish the relationships and the thoughts going through the characters' minds. I wanted to show a bond between Kurt and Finn developing (slowly but surely, and when I got the image of Finn trying to comfort Kurt in a 'manly' way made me laugh and I had to write it). I also wanted to have a little glimpse at how Karofsky was handling everything, his thoughts and what was going on at his end. Plus, just a bit of Klaine added in to this chapter. Yes this will be a Klaine fic, simply because I think the relationship is important and just wonderful and beautiful. No Kurtofsky, sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for a Dave and Kurt story. I just don't support that pairing as I explained in the previous chapter.**

**Also, just a suggestion for later chapters; if I involve a song or have a singing number, I suggest you listen to said song if you do not know it because otherwise it just looks like words really. So for example in the previous chapter, Kurt sang 'Out is Through' by Alanis Morisette, which is I think a song that is not that well known so just check out the song on youtube, just listen to it so you understand the use of the song more and can picture Kurt singing it rather than just reading lyrics and not really knowing how it goes.**

**Thank you for reading. **


	3. Again And Again

**Once again blown away by the amount of favourites, reviews etc in such a short space of time. Keep it up! My children are starting to get plump on your interest :'] I have been updating pretty much every day and this is because the first few chapters were greatly planned out. Future chapters may not be written as quickly, just to warn you. Enjoy, review and give me your thoughts. **

Kurt had barely slept that night. He knew he wouldn't. Too many anxieties were buzzing in his head, too many thoughts still vibrant and very much alive in his thoughts. So even when Finn had decided to call it a night at quarter to midnight, despite having gotten into bed at half seven, Kurt was still very much awake. The moment Finn had turned his back to him, Kurt resumed his position on his back, and eyes wide open like headlights glaring up at the ceiling, every now and then shifting his feet or wetting his rapidly drying tongue. Karofsky kept rearing up in his consciousness, his words spitting out when Kurt managed to shut his eyes, causing him to flinch awake with a thin cool layer of sweat resting on his forehead like a second sheet of flesh.

Kurt groaned in frustration as he checked the time to see it was three o'clock in the morning, knowing the early hour alongside the lack of sleep would completely destroy his complexion for the next day. He snorted at himself when he thought this, disbelieving that his concern over his skin overtook his concern for his wellbeing the next day. He must've drifted off at one point because the next thing he knew, the radio was playing as his and Finn's alarm rang out. Kurt pulled the sheets over his eyes in a poor attempt to block at the light and the noise, denying it was the morning. Finn roughly shook him awake, grunting that it was time to get up.

"Kurt you look awful," Burt Hummel said at the dinner table, untactful with his choice of words. He knew immediately that his son had slept badly due to worry and distress, and this left Burt fuming, loathing the boy who had done this to his child more and more. "Maybe you should take the day off today. It is Friday, have a fresh start on Monday."

Kurt was tempted, feeling nauseous at the mere sight of his bowl of cereal and the taste of orange juice had never been so overpowering, his taste buds oddly oversensitive. "No, Dad, I'm fine," he murmured flatly, ignoring the ever tightening knot in his stomach. "Just couldn't get to sleep last night."

Burt huffed. "I wonder why." His tone changed as he reached a hand over the table to touch Kurt's. "Take the day off today, kid. I insist."

Finn perked up, blatant to why his step-brother had been offered the day off. "H-Hey Burt, I slept rough too. Can I—" he was cut off when Carole nudged him with her elbow, arching her eyebrows. Finn looked stung. "Why does Kurt get the day off and I don't?"

Burt and Carole looked at one another, and then at Kurt. Kurt kept his eyes on his food even though it was making him feel even sicker.

"You didn't tell him?" Burt Hummel said. "I thought no more secrets, Kurt?"

"Tell me what?" Finn asked through a mouthful of toast, earning a second nudge that almost caused him to choke. Carole patted him on the back, her eyes remaining on her stepson.

Silence collapsed around the table, and Kurt knew they were waiting for him to answer. He pinched the bridge of his nose, set down his fork with a clink and then, instead of looking at his stepbrother, looked at the glass of juice, turning it round and round.

"Dave Karofsky comes back to McKinley today..." Kurt explained quietly. "The school board said there was no physical violence and...no proof that he had threatened me. So they overturned Principal Sylvester's expulsion and so..." he drifted off, cautious that his voice would break and his dad would demand he take the day off school.

Finn's jaw had dropped, frantically looking from Burt to his mom to check that this was true. Carole nodded to confirm it. Finn faltered, feeling it was his duty to console Kurt, being a leader and all to reassure him and let him know that he was going to be there to protect him. Yet he didn't quite know what to say to make his stepbrother feel better. There was probably nothing that would, and he felt at a loss. Kurt was obviously upset. Finn was supposed to have his back.

"We've offered Kurt the chance to leave McKinley," Carole told her son tenderly. "To attend Dalton Academy instead. We'd use the honeymoon money on the tuition instead."

"Are you leaving McKinley, Kurt?" Finn asked, trying to peer up at Kurt's face but to no avail, the other boy's head too low.

"He hasn't answered us yet," Burt Hummel elaborated when Kurt didn't reply. "He's making a decision after school today. But I think staying is a bad idea. We have no idea what's going on in this psycho's head..." Burt suddenly pointed at Finn, his voice stern. "You better keep an eye on my son today, Finn. Make sure _**nothing **_happens to him 'cos I swear to God if he comes back with a single bruise or scratch or even a frigging crease in his jacket I will throttle that Karofsky asshole myself."

Kurt took this as his cue to leave for school. He picked up his still full bowl and glass, put them on the counter and swept up his satchel that was sitting next to his chair.

"Kurt, wait for Finn," his dad called after him. "He's driving you to and from school today. I don't want to leave anything to chance."

Kurt paused by the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. He should be pleading to stay at home, should be stalling by changing his outfit or 'forgetting' something, but for some reason he just wanted to get the day over and done with. He just wanted to get to school, to face whatever was coming for him quickly so it didn't just grow even more intimidating and scary. Finn ungracefully jogged over, pulling his hooded jacket on.

"Jacket's inside out, genius," Kurt exhaled, letting himself out the front door.

Finn sheepishly looked down to find Kurt was right. He briskly corrected himself, swung his rucksack over his shoulder and followed his stepbrother outside to the car.

**000**

"Shit man, it's so fucked up what they can expel you for these days," Azimo shook his head in disbelief, slamming his locker shut to turn to his friend. "Why do they give a shit about what you did to a fag anyway?"

Dave Karofsky shrugged, his gaze elsewhere as he kept an eye out for Hummel. "No idea, man."

"But at least the school board have some sense," Azimo continued. "So, has the queer left McKinley?"

"Not yet," Karofsky said, lowering his voice at the second part. "I'm hoping to fix that today. You in?"

"Man, that faggot tried to get my best friend kicked outta school," Azimo offered his friend his hand, which he shook in a deal. "I got your back. Just tell me what I gotta do."

**000**

"Try to avoid being alone today," Finn advised as they sat parked outside the school. "I'll try to get out of class early and wait for you outside yours so I might need a copy of your timetable."

"I don't need a bodyguard, Finn," Kurt mumbled, scribbling a rough copy of his timetable on the back of a sheet of paper that he was certain was Finn's homework. "I'll just avoid my locker as much as possible, that's usually where he finds me."

"Yeah, well when your hands stop shaking I'll take that under consideration," Finn pointed out delicately.

Kurt held his head high in defiance, passing his stepbrother the duplicate of his timetable before picking up his bag and letting himself out of the car. A flood of students poured from all directions, from various cars in the lot, from the school bus, from the roads. Kurt studied every single face his eyes fell upon, looking out for any sign of Karofsky, or even just friends of his for that was just as bad. His hands were clammy, which hardly happened to him since he took great pride in how soft and smooth his hands were, the skin underneath his eyes was tender and his chest felt heavy, like a very heavy weight sat alongside his organs making it difficult to straighten up or even breathe.

Kurt clumsily pulled himself together. He couldn't be seen whimpering and cowering, wasn't he trying to prove how strong people like him could be? That just because he was gay didn't mean he was a coward or a pansy as some people would dub him as? He held his bag strap against himself, fixing his posture by straightening his back and tilting his head slightly, keeping his eyes from the ground and allowing them to drink in everything around him. Though he felt a tiny bit stronger, he waited for Finn to join his side before walking towards the school building that loomed like a threatening cloud in the distance.

**Courage. Courage. Courage. **Kurt repeated to himself in his head, saying the word silently to himself with every step he took. He couldn't help but feel like everyone was staring at him, plotting against him. Whenever someone got too close, he shifted closer to Finn just in case they grabbed and brought him to Karofsky.

"Dude, stop doing that you keep touching my hand," Finn whispered in Kurt's ear, moving his hands up to his bag straps to prevent their hands touching a sixth time. "Don't want people to think we're dating."

"Oh yeah, stepbrothers tend to do that these days," Kurt retorted, though he did move away from Finn to give each other some space. They didn't speak again, the lack of speech between them filled up with the bubbling sound of laughter, shouting and general talking between the students of McKinley.

Kurt raised a hand and rippled his fingers in a tiny wave at Brittany and Santana who were standing by their lockers, Santana looking at her friend in that unusual longing way that she did. The two girls waved in return before continuing with their conversation. Next person he saw from New Directions he kind of wished he hadn't, as Rachel bolted towards them, arms open as she awaited Finn to hoist her up in the air for a prolonged embrace and kissing session.

"Finn!" she cried as he lowered her to the ground, crushing her lips against his a sixteenth time. In order to perform the demonstration of sickly affection, Kurt and Finn had had to stop walking entirely, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall, earning shoves and snide remarks for blocking up the path but neither Finn or Rachel paid them any heed, too caught up in one another.

"...I would Rachel but I have to drive Kurt home after school today," Kurt tuned back in to the disgusting boyfriend-girlfriend chat at the mention of his name.

Rachel cast him a look that was just about shy of one of irritancy and blame. "You had to drive him home yesterday too," she pouted. "What's going on?"

Finn turned to Kurt, to check that it was okay for him to fill her in on the details. Kurt sighed and shrugged along with a short nod. Rachel and the rest of Glee Club were bound to find out sooner or later; be it running into Karofsky in the halls or Finn letting it slip since he never was too good with keeping things under wraps. Finn touched his girlfriend's arm as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. The way he did it was so cringe worthily obvious that Kurt couldn't look a moment longer, shifting his attention to the ground. Rachel misread this and assumed he was close to tears, pulling him into an awkward hug. Kurt's eyes widened at the unapproved contact.

"Oh, Kurt," Rachel sounded closer to tears than Kurt did. "You poor thing! I know how you feel...having gay dads and everything." She pulled away so Kurt had to quickly change his expression from unmoved to thoughtful to evade hurting her feelings. "Don't worry, Kurt. I'll alert the other club members and have them keep an eye on you. We have your back."

"Thanks, Rachel," Kurt said, giving her a genuine half smile.

"Rachel's right...son of a bitch!"

Rachel turned on her boyfriend, firstly assuming the latter was referring to her but when she followed Finn's gaze, she realised he was referring to someone different entirely. Kurt turned around and nearly crumpled on the ground in shock since his knees were knocking against one another so hard. Karofsky was walking purposefully towards them, his stride as arrogant as ever, eyes set on Kurt. Just the simple eye contact throttled Kurt to the core with fear. Finn immediately stepped forwards, putting Kurt behind him, and Rachel stood behind him also, arm linked with Kurt.

"You really have some nerve," Finn growled when Karofsky was close enough to hear.

Karofsky tucked his hands in his pockets, halting a few feet before Finn, looking unabashed and unaffected by what his fellow teammate was saying.

"I just came to apologise to Kurt," Karofsky said calmly.

Kurt flinched with shock, lips parted and eyes close to bulging out of his sockets. Karofsky never really called him by his first name, it was nearly always Hummel or fag or queer or homo. He'd only called Kurt by his name when he'd brought Blaine to McKinley after their kiss. The way Karofsky still held himself was booming with arrogance, but he didn't seem to pose any threat to him, just standing there with his fists in his jacket pockets, looking up at Finn with a near innocent expression.

"You—came to apologise to Kurt?" Finn echoed, testing to see that he'd heard that right. When Karofsky nodded, his stance changed. He wasn't tense anymore; he seemed to turn lax and his hands that had curled into balls of fists had flattened out against the sides of his thighs in an awkward manner. Finn moved slightly so Karofsky and Kurt could look straight at one another. Rachel continued to look Karofsky up and down critically, as if reading his body language to find anything threatening or negative there. She didn't speak or act so Kurt supposed she hadn't found any bad vibes coming from him.

"Kurt," Karofsky said, the use of his name once again stunning Kurt. "I'm sorry...for all that shit I put you through. It wasn't right. I have my own issues to deal with, and lashing out at you wasn't the right way to do it. So yeah. Sorry."

"Sorry...won't cut it entirely," Kurt choked, startled to find himself on the brink of tears. "And I'm not ready to fully forgive you...but...thank you...for apologising."

Karofsky nodded in understanding, glanced at Finn, nodded again and then turned his back on them and left. Kurt stared after his retreating back, realising he'd been holding his breath the entire time. He also noticed his body trembling violently when Rachel tenderly touched his hand. A tiny gasp fled from his mouth and he turned to look at her, finding her eyes sympathetic and understanding. Kurt shakily smiled at her and closed his eyes when Finn touched his shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

Was it really over? Kurt wasn't certain as he made his way to his locker, remaining alert just in case Karofsky suddenly burst around the corner to give him a sharp shove. But that didn't happen. Kurt just stood there, collecting the books he needed for his first class, brushing his gaze over the words 'Courage' stuck up on the door. He inhaled deeply, allowing it to fill up and refresh his organs for what felt like the first time in ages, and then closed it, walking with Finn, who was still not going to take any chances, to his first lesson.

**000**

At the start of the day, Kurt had been so tense and jittery that he had considered just going home despite Karofsky's apology. He was so on edge he let out several yelps during physics whenever his teacher would set down a pen or close a book loudly. But by third period, he'd stopped worrying. He was content and, for the first time in a while, concentrated and answered questions in his class. Each of his teachers was surprised to see him putting his hand up again, but it was a pleasant surprise. Kurt enthusiastically talked to his friends during lunch, his voice at the highest volume it had been for months. Whenever they brought up Karofsky, Kurt would wave his hand as if it meant nothing and said that it was dealt with. He brushed off their concerns and questions, assuring them it was all over and done with.

"But Kurt, what if Karofsky was just saying sorry to get everyone off his back?" Mercedes suggested, fearful over her best friend's safety. "You just seemed to accept his apology without even batting an eyelid."

"Mercedes, I'm tired of being paranoid," Kurt said, sipping from his can of diet coke. "I'm tired of seeing the worst in people. For months I've been just so...fed up and now he'd basically just built a bridge. If I just keep assuming he's out to get me, everyone will be think I'm just being suspicious and attention seeking. Besides, Karofsky has too much to lose to carry on bullying me."

"Still, Kurt maybe just be a bit warier," Tina advised. "Keep an eye out or something just to make sure Karofsky wasn't just tricking you into false security."

All the talk about Karofsky lying made Kurt uncomfortable and it dampened his good mood. It sounded ridiculous, but he hadn't had a truly good day for ages, ever since Karofsky had kissed him and maybe even before that. He just wanted to relax and enjoy what was left of his high school life. Maybe he had jumped a bit too quickly on the boat of forgiveness but he couldn't help it. How relaxed he felt, how much better he felt about himself...he wasn't ready to put that in a box until he was entirely sure Karofsky wasn't just bluffing.

For the sake of his friends, Kurt agreed to keep his guard up. To his relief, everyone let the matter drop and continued to discuss more light hearted topics. He couldn't ignore the sideways glances he was receiving from Mercedes and Finn, whom hadn't quite mastered the art of being discreet unlike the former. Kurt paid them no heed, returning to his meal to find he had lost his appetite.

By the time Glee Club had rolled around, Kurt was in much higher spirits and was animatedly talking to Mercedes as they waited for Mr. Schue to arrive and begin the session. They were enthusing about the solos they hoped to get, Kurt finally able to speak passionately about the solo Mr. Schue had briefly mentioned yesterday. Mercedes noticed the way her friend's eyes lit up the minute they had moved away from the entire Karofsky subject; she felt bad for ruining his good mood and wanted to avoid raining on his parade as much as possible but all the same she was concerned. After all of that would Karofsky really just back down? But what did she know? Maybe he had. Maybe Kurt was right, Karofsky wouldn't dare try to hurt him now everyone was keeping such a close eye on him? Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Despite that, Mercedes decided that wishful thinking was what Kurt was living on now. He was getting all of his energy back, and he wasn't sitting away from her anymore, he was sitting closely to her again like how they did before. Kurt even rested his head on her shoulder when Mr. Schue turned up and started his supposedly motivating speech about Sectionals drawing closer. Mercedes planted her cheek against his hair like they were Siamese twins being sewn back together, and just stayed there the entire time even when her neck started to ache. Kurt was her best friend, and she was just happy to have him back, the way he was...

**000**

Finn stood out in the parking lot ten minutes after the final bell had sounded, noticing the streams of students dispersing thinning until it was left to the last stragglers. Rachel had left a few minutes ago and already she was texting him, proclaiming how much she loved him and missed him. He half heartedly reciprocated her words; half hearted not because he was growing bored of their relationship, he loved her very much, but he just wanted to go home. He was waiting for Kurt, who had announced he needed to visit the bathroom just as they were about to leave. Finn wasn't sure whether it was normal for gay dudes to spend longer in the bathroom like chicks did, but he was beginning to get fidgety and unsettled.

He went to call him but remembered Kurt's phone was at home, dead. Finn groaned, knowing he couldn't just drive home because Burt would rip him a new one for leaving his son. So Finn just waited, sitting on the hood of his car, swinging his legs to and fro as if the movement would busy his mind. Next thing he knew, something icy cold slammed into the side of his face. He recognised the sweet smell and the brain numbing chill within split seconds, and turned to see the perpetrator.

Azimo was near enough busting a gut from laughing. Within seconds, a second was being thrown in his face and Azimo had shot off. Finn was at a loss, dripping with slushie and shivering violently in the already frosty fall air. He knew he couldn't just stand outside freezing to death while waiting for Kurt, plus he couldn't get slushie all over the car. It would take ages to clean and he'd have to take the bus to and from school while the stickiness was fading. His joints numb, Finn got down from his seat and shook his hands, the slushie splatting on the ground as it slid from his skin.

**I'll only be a few minutes **Finn thought to himself as he sprinted off towards the guys' changing room to quickly wash and dry himself off.

**000**

Finn wasn't the only one to be slushied. As he, Finn and Rachel had parted ways, just as he went to enter the boys' bathroom, the ice drink had slapped him on the back of his head, followed by a yell that went along the lines of: "Girls' bathroom's next door, faggot!" Kurt was certain he recognised the voice to Azimo, but thought nothing of it really. He was just pissed off that his hair had been the victim of this petty crime.

Kurt looked at his reflection after rinsing his hair the umpteenth time, touching the back of his head to find his hair was hard and sticky. He swore as he thought about Blaine and their 'date' tomorrow. What if he couldn't get the gunk out of his hair for then? Kurt settled himself by drafting a backup outfit that would go with a hat, worse come to worst. The majority of the drink had melted on his clothes, hair and even some on his cheeks. His teeth chattered against one another as he rubbed at his skin with his sleeve to remove the last of it and, after one last check of his appearance, opened the bathroom door nearly to find himself walking straight into a chest.

Karofsky stood in the doorway, his jaw clenched. He looked nothing like he did before; not innocent, not apologetic, not calm or approachable. None of those things. He was standing there, his very presence booming like thunder and Kurt didn't feel safe at all. He'd never felt so small in all of his existence, never felt so vulnerable and weak. Karofsky towered over him, and Kurt felt as if he was shrinking under the glare of the much taller boy. He took a step back, the sound of his shoe connecting to the floor eating up the quiet, echoing just how alone Kurt really was. No one was wandering around the halls now. None of the Glee members were there to have his back. Finn was outside, and his dad was at home. Kurt felt sick. He wanted to leave. He wished that he had amazing speed and could squeeze past Karofsky; he wished he could run through walls at high speed or just vanish. Turn invisible and never show his face again. Anything to stop this confrontation occurring.

Karofsky didn't speak. He just stared, his eyes stuck to Kurt's. He jabbed a finger painfully into Kurt's chest, repeating the action until Kurt was backing up into the bathroom, all the way until his back touched the wall. Karofsky kept his finger pressed firmly into the other boy's skin, feeling the heat radiate from there, seeing the pulse beat in the throat, seeing the strangled whimpers slipping from Kurt's mouth, noises only for Dave to hear. Dave dropped his finger, feeling his digit ache from the amount of force projected. He brought his hand to Kurt's face to lightly brush over it. Kurt yelped, eyes locking shut. Dave didn't mind, not right now. He just wanted to look. He just wanted to touch...for now. Dave's hand ghosted over Hummel's cheek, astonished to find it so supple and smooth. He lowered his hand to the pulse that was no throbbing under the flesh, threatening to burst through. It punched Dave's fingers as he touched it. Dave felt something stir in him, a sensation striking him hard. He recognised the feeling, and he felt the layer of filth flatten itself out against his skin again. He was dirty, disgusting. And so was Hummel.

Kurt had never been hit before in his life. Pushed and given the odd thump sure but never a fist pounding into his body. So when Dave Karofsky wound his fingers into his palms and smashed his fist into Kurt's cheek, it was an utter shock. The pain was unbelievable. It stung and ached all at once, splitting across his cheek. The initial little seed of pain was planted by the knuckle, and it spread its aching roots. Kurt touched his face as he reopened his eyes, delirious and completely lost. It took him a few seconds to realise he was lying on the floor, looking up at Karofsky who'd never appeared so intimidating, standing way above him like an overwhelming building. Kurt was quaking, and he didn't try to control it. The shock of being hit and the fear of whatever else was going to happen to him was too much and he just gave way to the tremors that shook him violently like a pair of hands trying to desperately wake him from a terrible nightmare.

"You're a fucking faggot, Hummel," Karofsky spat, droplets of saliva landing on Kurt's face. "And you've made me like you. I hope you're happy." He delivered a powerful kick to the stomach, earning a high pitched yell in return. Kurt wound his arms around his searing abdomen, his oxygen snatched from him like candy from a baby. His eyes watered, blurring his vision that was now sliding in and out of focus.

"Kurt? Kurt, is that you?"

Karofsky was alarmed by the sound of Finn Hudson, and jerked his head from the door to the queer lying on the bathroom floor in front of him. He ground his teeth together, sweat standing out against his skin as the possibility of being caught reached its height. He grabbed Kurt by the shirt, dragging him up to his feet and shoving him up against a sink. Kurt winced as the sink hit his lower back; his upper body twisted back further; a string of pain plucked.

"If you tell anyone what I did, Hummel, I will kill you this time," Dave snarled. "This isn't a threat, this is fact. I will find you and kill you. Do you understand, you dirty little queer? I will KILL you!"

And then Dave had fled, tears pouring down his face as he ran.

Kurt fell forwards onto his knees, groaning with pain as he held his stomach, sniffing as he tried to mask the tears, knowing Finn was going to find him, and if he saw him like this...

**000**

Finn had been drying his face when the question had come to his mind; why had Azimo slushied him? Sure, it wasn't unusual for Azimo to be throwing slushies in his face, but it was unusual that the jock had done it alone. Even when Finn had crossed paths with Karofsky, he wouldn't dare attack or say anything to Finn when it was just him by himself. He had no crowd to please, no goons to make laugh. So it was odd that Azimo had decided to, out of the blue, amuse himself with no one else to earn cheap laughs from.

Finn emerged from the guys' changing room, about to make his way back out into the parking lot when he heard a high pitched yell. Finn froze. His thoughts immediately leapt to Kurt. He was sure it was his stepbrother. He looked around, seeing nothing.

"Kurt? Kurt, is that you?" Finn called out, trying to decipher exactly where the sound came from. His heart began to pick up pace when there was no following noise. He wanted to believe it was just his imagination, wanted to walk away and find Kurt waiting for him at the car in a pissy mood. But Finn couldn't walk away. He knew something wasn't right and he had to find out what he had heard. Finn wandered aimlessly around the halls, hearing nothing but his feet on the ground and his breathing.

"Kurt?" Finn tried again, his heart hiccupping in his chest.

"Finn, stop yelling."

Finn turned around to see Kurt standing there. The relief was almost too much to bear and Finn just wanted to embrace his stepbrother. He even went to when he saw the cut on Kurt's cheek.

"Hey, what happened to your face?"

Kurt touched his cheek absentmindedly, hissing upon contact and jerking his hand away. He looked shocked to see blood on his fingertips.

"I have no idea..." Kurt mumbled.

Finn's eyes narrowed. "Did something happen?"

Kurt met Finn's gaze steadily, as if he'd just been asked about the weather. He shrugged, gingerly brushing his fingers over his skin, flinching when his finger strayed too close to the wound.

"What happened, Kurt? Tell me...Burt's gonna kill me!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and put a hand on his hip. "Nothing happened, Finn. I got slushied by Azimo and I think it might have cut my face or something." He cringed at the terrible lie, but Finn seemed to buy it.

"I got slushied too!" Finn exclaimed. "I didn't know it could cut your skin..."

"It's ice, Finn."

"I suppose..."

"Just...let's go home. I'm seeing Blaine tomorrow and I need to wash my hair before the slushie sets in."

Finn obliged, eyebrows furrowed as he trailed on behind his stepbrother. Kurt walked briskly on ahead, his green-blue eyes brimming with tears, and his hands continuing to shake at his sides.

**TBC**

**Please review and let me know what you think. A bit of a darker chapter methinks but Kurt and Karofsky needed a bit of a confrontation I think, a minor one to set everything else off. Thank you for the reviews and the favourites, please continue. **


	4. If I Kiss You Where It's Sore

Blaine hesitated as he stood waiting on Kurt's doorstep at quarter to one on Saturday morning, licking his extremely dry lips as he reached out to knock softly on the front door. Before his knuckle could make contact, he snatched his hand away, bringing it to his face to stroke his chin in thought. He contemplated waiting in the car a while longer, until he was right on time rather than fifteen...fourteen minutes early, he didn't want to seem desperate. But then again, it wasn't a date. It was just two friends meeting up to hang out, so it really shouldn't matter whether he was slightly early or not. Still, Blaine was reluctant to knock on the door just yet. He was wracked with nerves, rubbing his clammy palms against his jeans and smoothing out his hair just in case a single strand was sitting out of place.

He had been looking forward to this day since Monday (for that was when the idea had originally been conceived, he just hadn't the courage to ask and was, in the end, forced to by Wes), and Blaine hadn't really spoken to Kurt since the phone call on Thursday. Kurt had called the day before at eleven o'clock at night, and something had been kind of off about Kurt's voice, like he had kind of been pushed into making it and wasn't entirely certain of what to say. He just assured Blaine that everything was still on and to meet him at his house at one. After the two minute phone call had reached its end, Blaine had sat there, contemplating calling the other boy back and asking him what was up but decided to leave it until he saw him in person the next day.

It was now the next day, and Blaine was too nervous to even knock the front door. He inhaled and exhaled deeply to steady himself, rotated his shoulders as if he was warming up and turned around to rap his knuckles against the door to find himself face to face with Finn, who had one eyebrow arched in confusion. Blaine hastily drew his hand back, running it over the back of his hair instead as if that had been what he was intending to do. He grinned to shield his embarrassment, extending his other hand for a handshake.

"Hi, I'm Blaine," he introduced himself, his voice just about to make it past the lump in his throat.

"Dude, you've been standing outside my house for like ten minutes," Finn said, meeting Blaine's hand with his own, giving it a jerky shake. "Why didn't you just knock?"

Blaine blushed fiercely. "Um...I didn't want to be in the way? I guess...I dunno." He looked away in utter awkwardness, the heat burning his skin almost too much to bear. "I brought a card for Burt and Carole...to congratulate them on their wedding. Are they here?"

"No, they left for their honeymoon last night," Finn said, an odd tone buried under the seemingly normal response. "Kurt's still getting ready, but you can wait in the living room if you like?"

"Thank you," Blaine stepped on through the doorway and into the house, scanning his surroundings with curiosity. He'd never been inside of Kurt's house before, and it was odd to be standing in the building in which his friend lived. That was probably a strange way to look at it, but Blaine couldn't help being interested.

"Kurt, Blaine's up here! Are you almost done?" Finn called down a stairway.

"Tell him to come down!"

Blaine perked up at the sound of Kurt's voice, already making his way over to Finn who was just about to look over at him to repeat Kurt's message. Blaine mumbled thanks to the much taller boy before making his way down the stairs, grateful to escape that uncomfortable atmosphere. His eyes swept around what he assumed to be Kurt's room, admiring the slightly flamboyant decoration but he expected nothing more from his friend. His lips split into a grin when he saw the back of Kurt's head as the boy checked out his reflection in the mirror, smoothing down his navy blue jeans that clung to his skin tightly.

Blaine wolf whistled in appreciation, causing the other boy to start, hopping up and turning around in one swift movement, hands flying to his heart in a very dramatic manner. Blaine strode over, sliding his hands into his jean pockets. He went to speak when he picked up an odd colouring on Kurt's cheek directly under his right eye. Blaine stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to one side and squinting, studying it to check if it was just the lighting of the room or if it was something else. As if to prove him right, Kurt's hand bolted to his cheek in a poor effort to hide it.

"What happened to your face?" Blaine murmured, starting to walk slowly forward.

"Nothing," Kurt whispered, shaking his head, shifting his body backwards as if to step away entirely.

Blaine touched his hand softly, fingers gently prying Kurt's hand away from his cheek to reveal the skin beneath. Kurt didn't put up a fight, closing his eyes as if he couldn't bear to see his friend's reaction, cursing himself for not being better at being discreet and lying. Blaine brought his fingers to the area of skin that was a complete shade darker to the rest, which was very fair compared to the almost rich complexion of someone like Rachel. Blaine recognised it was cover up immediately and rolled his thumb over it tenderly, earning a wince, which he soothed with a breathy 'sorry'. Underneath the makeup, was a very angry looking bruise, in the stage of turning blue and purple with a cut in the centre of it, scabbed over but it had obviously been deep enough to bleed.

Blaine suddenly found himself exceptionally emotional, entire body sagging and a tiny tut escaping his mouth. Kurt's eyes fluttered open to meet his, and they stayed that way for a while, just looking at one another, utterly lost for words. Kurt just wanted to apologise, to assure him that nothing was the matter although he knew that Blaine wouldn't accept that that was the case. Blaine just wanted to protect him, just wanted to embrace him and find out what had happened to his dear friend, who had dared to lay a finger on him. It was a while before either of them spoke. The first one to, was Blaine.

"What happened?"

"I—I—accidentally hit myself in the face with the cupboard door," Kurt lied in a feeble last attempt to keep Blaine from worrying. When the Dalton student narrowed his gaze, Kurt blushed. "Karofsky..."

Blaine wasn't surprised, not after seeing how Karofsky had reacted to him that time Kurt had asked him to confront him in hopes of getting him to accept his sexuality. The way Karofsky had flared up so quickly had alerted Blaine that this guy was not one to be challenged or messed with, like a firework. Sometimes, you just had to run and watch it set off on its own accord. It was out of his and Kurt's hands, and even if they did try to help the likelihood that everything would blow up in their faces was almost definite. Blaine couldn't cast off the pang of guilt he felt for not telling anyone else about Karofsky, for not insisting that Kurt tell the teachers sooner and be a witness to the physical violence. But Kurt had never asked; Kurt didn't let on that it was that serious. He just dubbed it as harassment, and that it was just a closet case giving him a bit of a hard time. Blaine didn't see it as physical violence, really, not counting the odd shove as particularly life threatening though, of course, upsetting and unpleasant. Now Kurt was standing there, a bruise on his cheek from blatant abuse.

He couldn't talk, just scanning Kurt's eyes with a great amount of sympathy and remorse sitting in those hazel pools, gnawing his bottom lip as he grazed his fingertips ever so slightly over the bruise a second time. Kurt flinched but didn't make a sound.

"Did he hit you anywhere else?" Blaine asked, stunned to find his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling though he hadn't really spoken much.

Kurt went to shake his head at first just to remove that sad look from Blaine's eyes but then transitioned it into a single nod, swallowing hard. Blaine seemed to tense up for a millisecond, eyes gliding up to the ceiling...and Kurt could have sworn he saw tears brimming there.

"Show me," Blaine whispered, clearing his throat as it nearly disappeared altogether.

Kurt gingerly unbuttoned his shirt downwards; if this were any other occasion, he'd be blushing beetroot red at this point at the mere concept of Blaine seeing his chest, worrying if he would still be bloated from breakfast or dinner the night before. But he wasn't. It was almost like he was revealing something to a doctor, removing his clothing to show the point of concern. Blaine drew the shirt sideways like a curtain, digging his teeth in deeper into the meat of his bottom lip upon seeing the dark bruise on Kurt's abdomen. He touched that also, as if in hope that his touch could remove it or take the pain away even just a little bit though it did nothing. The mark remained there.

"We—we have to leave if we still want to catch that movie," Kurt reminded Blaine weakly.

Blaine gave a weak smile that didn't even reach his eyes. "We're not going to the movies anymore, Kurt. At least, not today. I want to sit here with you, and hear everything that happened."

**000**

It didn't take Kurt very long to explain the situation seeing as though he skipped a lot of detail since he was trying to repress the memory. He broke down once or twice in the midst of speaking, but Blaine didn't push him. He just touched Kurt's hand and slipped his fingers in between his, cementing their hands together. Comforted by the simple warmth of Blaine's hand, Kurt continued to talk a little stronger. After he'd finished, he expected Blaine to take his hand away but, to his relief, it remained bound to his. Blaine stroked slowly with his thumb, eyes never leaving Kurt's, even when Kurt had tried to duck away to hide his tears in shame. Blaine just whispered for him to look at him, that Kurt had nothing to be embarrassed about. They sat there in mute for a moment, the small sounds of Finn walking around upstairs and Kurt's sniffs the only things disturbing the air.

"You have to talk to someone...other than me," Blaine spoke eventually after long consideration. "I have no real authority, but I can back you up. I can be a witness to his violence and maybe they'll expel him successfully this time."

"That's the thing, Blaine..." Kurt breathed. "Maybe. I can't leave this up to chance. If I tell someone again and he doesn't get expelled a second time, it's just going to be worse."

"But there's a still a chance he will be expelled," Blaine protested. "And you won't be alone this time. I will be there backing you up. I promise you, Kurt. You're not going to be alone in this...not again."

"I can't, Blaine..." Kurt hated frustrating Blaine, hated disagreeing with him. He just wanted to agree so they could move away from this topic, but knew they wouldn't so easily change subjects. "Maybe it was just a onetime thing..."

"Kurt, like you, I don't want to leave anything to chance," Blaine interrupted tenderly. "Karofsky doesn't sound like a guy you should take a chance with. He's an angry, confused, closet case who just doesn't want to accept what he is. Until he sorts out his own problems, he will continue to hurt and lash out at you to make himself feel better. You can't be protected all the time, there will be moments when you'll be alone at school or even outside of it and he'll jump at those chances more than anything. Please, Kurt...I'm begging you. Tell someone."

Kurt turned away for the first time since they'd sat down cross-legged on his bed to tell Blaine everything that had occurred, never feeling so lonely without Blaine's eyes attached to his. Kurt didn't like distressing Blaine, not one bit, and regretted not doing his cover up right and not hiding it better. If only he was a better liar...like Puck or Santana. But no, he was useless at that and now a wonderful day out borderline date was spoiled. He did not expect a pair of lips to press themselves carefully against the bruise on his cheek in such a loving, doting manner he would have certainly swooned if the circumstances were different. Blaine's lips stayed glued to Kurt's skin for what seemed like forever before departing. Kurt cringed as he felt his body lean after the other boy's, correcting himself rapidly and meeting Blaine's eyes again.

The corner of Blaine's mouth leaned upwards and he gave Kurt's hand a squeeze. Kurt returned it, clamping is other hand over Blaine's. Blaine reciprocated this, letting out a short laugh. Kurt felt himself smile, the movement making his cheeks ache; both pair of hands clutched one another desperately.

"I don't want you to leave..." Kurt confided, feeling abruptly idiotic for saying such a thing.

Blaine obviously didn't find it as pathetic and childish as Kurt did as his smile widened. "How long do you want me to stay?"

Kurt didn't want to sound needy, but he was. He didn't want Blaine to leave in fear of being alone, in fear of those memories flooding into his mind at the most inappropriate moments like just as he was about to fall asleep. Blaine's presence pushed everything out of the way, making him focus on nothing but him. Kurt knew saying a couple more hours would seem less weak but that wouldn't suffice for he knew the moment Blaine left, everything would pile up on top of him and he'd find himself crushed.

"Until tomorrow?" Kurt suggested, not daring to glance at Blaine as he said this.

"If it's okay with your brother, then I'd be delighted. Though..." he sighed. "I have nothing to change into."

"Don't worry I have loads of spare clothes," Kurt amended quickly.

"Where would I sleep?"

Kurt hadn't thought about that. "Uh...I think Finn's staying over at Rachel's for the weekend. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you having his bed for the night."

That was false; Finn had no intention of stopping over his girlfriend's that weekend but Kurt really needed Blaine to stay, and was sure he could persuade his stepbrother to do him a favour. Blaine agreed to stay nonetheless, and Kurt left the room to go upstairs as Blaine called his parents to make sure they were okay with it.

Finn was sitting on the sofa, devouring handful after handful of popcorn at such a fast rate he choked after every intake, recovering by the time the next dozen were poured down his throat. Kurt masked his disgust as best as he could, forcing a seemingly innocent expression.

"Fiiiinnn," he chimed, leaning on the back of the sofa behind his stepbrother.

"Help yourself," Finn said through a mouthful of popcorn, holding the bowl out behind him.

Kurt wrinkled his nose, pushing the bowl away gently. "Um...no thank you. Would you mind staying over Rachel's tonight?"

"I dunno," Finn answered, taking a small break from the popcorn to gulp from the bottle of coke he had handily planted at his side. "Why?"

"Blaine's staying the night and..."

Finn spluttered, the drink dribbling down his chin as he coughed. He turned round with watery eyes to Kurt. "Dude, don't get up to freaky stuff in our room! I thought this was your first date!"

"Shush! Keep your voice down!" Kurt hissed, blood freezing in his veins in case Blaine had heard that. "I'm not going to do anything 'freaky' okay? I've offered him to stop over and he'll be sleeping in your bed so...no weird things going on there." He gave an awkward chuckle.

Finn narrowed his eyes. "There better not be, man. If I find stains on my jacket that you claim to be milk, I am _**so **_going to kick your ass."

"Oh please, grow up for a second," Kurt rolled his eyes. "That was one time and it really was milk!" when Finn snorted, he changed tactics. "Please, Finn. I really like Blaine, and I seriously don't want to rush things with him. I just...want him to stay for the night so we can get to know one another better. Please?"

Finn let out an exaggerated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine whatever. Just...wear protection or whatever if things do get a bit...heated."

"Thank you Finn, I owe you one," Kurt enthused, close to bouncing up and down with delight. He swept up a handful of popcorn and bolted off down the stairs to his room.

Blaine was just about to finish his conversation, so Kurt held back, standing at the middle of the stairs so not to intrude any private discussion being exchanged.

"Okay, yeah love you too, mom," Blaine said, his back to Kurt as he absentmindedly traced circles on Kurt's duvet. "Bye...bye."

Kurt counted to five before announcing his presence. "Hey, Blaine, Finn said it was okay for you to have his bed for the night."

Blaine turned around and grinned. "Oh, well...tell him thank you from me." He helped himself to a piece of popcorn, popping it into his mouth never breaking his gaze on Kurt. He cringed every time he saw the bruise, feeling the guilt twinge inside of him again. Kurt was just looking at him curiously, a smile still plastered on his face. Blaine realised his own had faded and forced his mouth to stretch out into a smile again, though it had lost its force.

Blaine and Kurt spent the right of their day doing absolutely nothing...and yet they felt fulfilled. They sat in front of the television upstairs, watching films ranging from '**Hairspray**' (for Kurt), and then '**Nightmare on Elm Street**' for Finn who had groaned and complained all the way through the first movie. Kurt had never really been good at handling horror films and so wound up with his knees tucked up to his chest, eyes wide as he watched gory murder after gory murder take place. Blaine gawped at the screen with Finn, every now and then cocking his head as if he couldn't quite understand what was happening. Kurt couldn't help but stare at Blaine's hand, sitting on the sofa beside him. He wanted to put his own down next to it, see if they would wind up holding hands again, which would not only make him a little less scared of the movie but would also make his heart skip a beat again. He wanted to feel what he felt down the basement all over again, the radiating heat shared between their two hugging palms, the soft skin of Blaine's fingers against the back of his hand. It was like a physical connection, powerful yet simple. Kurt thought one of the most romantic things in the world was to hold someone's hand, as if to say that this person is someone that I love, someone I will hold up if they fall, someone I want to be connected to no matter where I am, even if we can't hug or kiss we can just hold one another. That simple gesture, made Kurt's chest swell. Much to his disappointment, he couldn't pluck up the courage to grasp Blaine's hand, and instead it remained clutching his knee as another murder took place, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

After it had finished, Finn called up the pizza place down the road, ordering two large pizzas, one for himself and the other for Kurt and Blaine to share. They sat around the kitchen table, Finn and Blaine conversing animatedly about the movie, putting Kurt off his meal entirely once he looked at the red tomato sauce under the thick layer of cheese. He excused himself and went to the bathroom to shower, realising his entire body had started to sweat a little from fear and suspense. Kurt sighed, feeling ridiculous that he couldn't even sit through an old horror movie without breaking into perspiration. He felt like a coward.

He undressed slowly, not exactly wanting to hurry back out into the Freddy Krueger discussion. Kurt glowered at his reflection in the mirror as he peeled away his clothing like the skin of a banana to find the tender underneath covered with bruising. His stomach only held one dark patch but when he turned around to examine his back, he saw multiple ones from being shoved into the wall, into the sink, being knocked to the ground. Kurt couldn't shake the knowledge that all of those marks belonged to Karofsky; it was like he had marked him as his own. He felt sick and tore his eyes away from the mirror to clamber into the shower. The only thing that would turn his agitated mind away from his tormenter was his favourite number from '**Hairspray**'. He started the song quietly.

**I can hear the bells,**

**Well, dontcha hear 'em chime? **

**Can't you feel my heart beat, keeping perfect time?**

**And all because he **

His voice began to rise, growing louder so it bounced and echoed around the tiled bathroom walls. The shower was always the best place to sing, it magnified and clarified his voice to utter perfection.

**Touched me**

**He looked at me and stared**

**Yes he bumped me**

**My heart was unprepared**

**When he tapped me**

**And knocked me off my feet**

**One little touch now my life's complete**

'**Cos when he**

**Nudged me**

**Love put me in a fix**

**Yes it hit me **

**Just like a ton of bricks**

**Yes my **

**Heart burst now I know what life's about**

**One little touch and love's knocked me out and**

**I can hear the bells,**

**My head is spinning,**

**I can hear the bells,**

**Something's beginning,**

**Everybody says that a guy who looks like me,**

**Can't win his love but well just wait and see 'cos**

**I can hear the bells**

**Just hear them chiming**

**I can hear the bells**

**My temperature's climbing**

**I can't contain my joy**

**Cos I finally found the boy I've been missin'**

**Listen, I can hear the bells...**

**Round one,**

**He'll ask me on a date,**

**And then,**

**Round two,**

**I'll primp but won't be late,**

**Because round three,**

**Is when we kiss inside his car,**

**Won't go all the way but I'll go pretty far, **

**Round four,**

**He'll ask me for my hand and then,**

**Round five,**

**We'll book the wedding band,**

**So by**

**Round six**

**Very much to your surprise,**

**This heavy weight champion takes the prize and,**

**I can hear the bells,**

**My ears are ringing,**

**I can hear the bells,**

**The bridesmaids are singing,**

**Everybody says that a guy whose such a gem,**

**Won't look my way well the laugh's on them 'cos**

**I can hear the bells**

**My father will smile**

**I can hear the bells**

**As he walks me down the aisle**

**His mother starts to cry**

**But I can't see 'cos Blaine and I are French kissin'**

**Listen**

**I can hear the bells**

**I can hear the bells,**

**My head is reeling**

**I can hear the bells**

**I can't stop the feeling**

**Everybody warns that he won't like what he'll see**

**But I know that he'll look inside of me yeah**

**I can hear the bells**

**Today's just the start 'cos**

**I can hear the bells **

**Until death do us part and**

**Even when die**

**We'll look down from up above**

**Remembering the night when we two fell in love**

**We both will shed a tear and he'll **

**Whisper as we're reminiscing**

**Listen**

**I can hear the bells**

**I can hear the bells**

**I can hear...the bells... **

Kurt breathed heavily for a moment as he struggled to regain the oxygen that had been used as fuel for his singing voice. He finished up showering pretty quickly after that and was dried and dressed in his pyjamas in about five minutes. He reapplied the cover-up over his bruise so to avoid Finn was realising it. Luckily, his stepbrother, stepmother and dad hadn't really asked any questions. Kurt had been stressed out the entire ride home, drafting a version of what he was going to say about the purpling bruise on his face, knowing his dad would explode into a fit of rage and his heart really couldn't withstand such a strain right now. When Finn had pulled up, Burt Hummel had opened the front door and stood there waiting, arms folded and eyes narrowed directly on his son. When he'd seen the bruise, he went livid, storming towards Kurt.

"What's that on your face?" he had demanded, pointing at the mark.

"Oh...just a bruise," Kurt replied offhandedly, trying to make out it was nothing.

"I know what it is, Kurt," Burt said, firmly but still quite tender. "What I'm asking is how it happened. Did someone hit you?" he touched his son's face gently, nudging his head backwards and to the sides to get a better view of the bruise.

"I got slushied, that's all," Kurt had lied, looking his father straight in the eye. "This guy threw a slushie at Finn and me. Ice can cause bruising you know."

"Really?" the tiny expression of relief that had startled to crawl over Burt's features alerted Kurt that his dad wasn't aware that it was kind of false...though ice did freaking hurt and felt like it bruised when it was being thrown in your face.

"Yeah, I read it in a magazine," Kurt claimed.

Burt had still been annoyed that someone had thrown slushies at both Kurt and Finn and offered to call up the school to have them remove the machines. Though Kurt was certain the whole of Glee Club wanted those damned slushie machines gone, he knew that taking the iced drinks away would mean the jocks would replace it with water or coke or even food (their imagination was greatly limited), so he politely declined. Burt then asked Kurt to join him in the living room, just the two of them, to talk about Dalton Academy.

"You know the question already...so just tell me your answer and I promise to support it no matter what," Burt Hummel had started, scanning his son's eyes.

Kurt breathed in deeply. "I'm going to stay at McKinley. I have too much there to walk away now. I'm sorry dad..."

"Hey, none of that sorry stuff, okay? You're my son, and I will support your decision. If anything happens again, tell me. Tell me and I swear to sort it out. I would travel the globe just to find a place where you're happy, and even if it comes to leaving Ohio..."

"Whoa, dad, don't get ahead of yourself..."

"I not Kurt," Burt had said sadly. "I'm preparing for the inevitable."

Nothing more had been said about the subject and the pair had embraced tightly, as if squeezing Kurt hard enough would transfer his issues onto him. Burt felt like he was losing his child, like he was setting him out in a perilous world and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew that Karofsky wouldn't suddenly turn nice, that something bad would happen, be it in a week, a month or even in a year. He knew in his gut that the ignorance towards his son's sexuality wouldn't fade just from a near expulsion. But he could do nothing. Kurt was deciding to stay, out of either stupidity or bravery Burt wasn't sure but he admired him nonetheless. Burt and Carole took half an hour to finish packing with the vigorous help of Finn and Kurt. They had an hour and fourty-five minutes to get to the airport, so they left shortly after Kurt's choice had been announced.

Kurt had stood beside his step-brother on the doorstep, a great heaviness sitting behind his ribcage, making it difficult to breathe let alone wish his father and stepmother goodbye. He hugged Carole, whispering in her ear to make sure she wore the dress he bought her. She had laughed in return, promising she would before moving on to her son, cupping his face as if to memorize him. Burt Hummel had stood there awkwardly; hands in his jeans, looking at his only child with such despair and helplessness it broke Kurt's heart a tiny bit more. Father and son hugged for the second time, just as strong, just as desperate.

"Don't forget that I love you," Burt breathed.

"How could I possibly forget?" Kurt replied quietly, wiping his tears away on his dad's shoulder.

And like that, his guardian, his safety net was pulling away in a taxi, not to be back for a week. Kurt and Finn waved until the car had vanished completely, his lack of presence haunting and leaving Kurt feeling very empty. He clutched the note with the emergency numbers in his hand, wondering if he'd need them. He swore to himself he wouldn't call unless it was absolutely necessary, unless something was very wrong. He wouldn't call for a shove or a punch or anything like that. He'd call if he was felt his life was under threat...

The bathroom door knocked and Kurt dropped the towel on the floor in surprise. He rolled his eyes as he realised he had spaced out for a good ten minutes, collecting up the item and hanging it up before opening the door. He couldn't fight back the blush that erupted on his cheeks when he met the hazel eyes of Blaine. The boy smiled wryly.

"Finn's just about to leave," Blaine informed. "He wants to see you before he goes." He bit his bottom lip, smiling wider with some unshared joke.

"What?" Kurt pried when Blaine's eyes had started to glitter with unshed laughter.

"Nothing...I just...couldn't help but overhear your musical number." Kurt's jaw dropped but he swiftly snapped it back up, blinking rapidly as if to bat away the words, denying them. "I thought the guy's name was Link?" Blaine added.

"Um...no, Link was his surname," Kurt blurted out, his face alarmingly hot. "Blaine Link."

Blaine frowned and leaned back slightly. "Is that right? I could've sworn..."

"Nope, nope his name was Blaine Link," Kurt insisted, feeling incredibly naked with his shirt left undone. He went to do them up when Blaine's hand quilted his, their eyes meeting. Blaine touched the bruise on Kurt's stomach with just tender care and caution that Kurt had to prevent himself from melting on the spot by trying to divert his thoughts back onto the horror movie. The chills still rocked his body, however, and he found the hair on his body standing on end.

"I'll have to look that up later," Blaine murmured, doing up the buttons slowly. He jerked his head back in a gesture to the living room. "You better go see Finn...before he goes..."

Kurt nodded. "Yeah you're right," he agreed breathlessly. Once his shirt was closed up, he nudged past Blaine and crossed into the living room where Finn was standing, rucksack over his shoulder.

"You wanted to see me?" Kurt enquired, leaning his elbows on the back of the sofa.

"Uh, yeah," Finn sounded nervous, toying with his hands as he shuffled from one foot to the other. "Just wanted to tell you to have a good night and—have fun. And uh...take this."

He dunked into his pocket and brought out something small and square, taking Kurt's hand, uncurling the fingers and putting it down in his palm. Kurt looked down at the tiny wrapper to realise, with horror, it was a condom. He dropped it down and jumped back, gawping at Finn in shock.

"J-just in case," Finn explained, blushing fiercely. "I promised to have your back and...I guess that means for these kinds of situations too. I just want you to be safe if anything does go down..." he squirmed at his choice of words. "Just be safe."

"Nothing is going to happen, Finn!" Kurt persisted, looking at disgust at the condom on the sofa. "Blaine is just...a friend staying over. So take that back before he sees and think I'm trying to get him into bed!"

"Kurt, you don't have to use it just put it in your bag," Finn said, picking up the packet and pushing it into Kurt's hands.

"I am_** not**_ putting a condom in my bag!"

"Yes you are!"

"Not!"

"Hey guys..."

Kurt snatched the condom from Finn's hands and hastily shoved it behind the sofa, turning around nonchalantly to face the Dalton boy, who stood behind them confused and oblivious to the situation.

"I haven't walked in during an argument have I?" Blaine checked warily, eyes darting from Kurt to Finn, Kurt's face reddening every time those eyes landed on him.

"Not at all," Kurt reassured him. "Just...brotherly banter." He turned to Finn. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, dude, see you later," Finn's attempt at sounding casual was cringe worthy, his acting terribly wooden as he waved goodbye to both Kurt and Blaine, leaving through the front door. The click of it shutting filled the empty space where voices should be.

Kurt rubbed a hand over his face though he couldn't help but smile over Finn's silly little gesture. Even though it was silly and embarrassing, Kurt was grateful for it since he knew his stepbrother meant well. Then panic swept over him like a strong wind as he realised he would be spending the night alone...with Blaine...the boy who he was practically insane about. He worried that his heartbeat was now loud enough for everyone to hear, and he was close to fanning his face to urge the rising heat to leave his face. Kurt straightened up and looked at Blaine; the mere sight of him made Kurt's legs turn as feeble as strings being torn about in the breeze. He clapped his hands together.

"Now, what shall we do?"

Blaine walked slowly closer, reaching out a hand to touch Kurt's lightly. "Anything we want."

Kurt swallowed hard.

**TBC**

**Thank you so much for the reviews and story favourites! Keep them coming!**

**The song used is 'I Can Hear the Bells' from the Hairspray soundtrack. I love that song and when I heard it, I could imagine Kurt singing about how perfect Blaine was. Of course, a few things had to be changed like 'girl' and a character reference like 'Amber'. Also, I had to change the character name Link to Blaine and the line 'my mother starts to cry' since Kurt's mother sadly died so I changed it to 'his mother' as in Blaine's mother. **

**Oh my lord! The Kurt and Blaine kiss was so beautiful. Living in the United Kingdom, I didn't get to watch it in wonderful HD on television so I had to watch it on a video on the internet. All the same, I was stunned and blown away. It was wonderfully handled and was so sweet. I'm glad it wasn't Kurt doing the hitting on again. It's nice to see someone else act on their feelings towards him. Also, the kiss was much more tender and romantic than the Kurt and Karofsky kiss. **

**You have no idea how many times I used the cupboard excuse! But it always worked with me...I guess people thought I was that stupid I'd keep walking into cupboard doors. The tender scene between Blaine and Kurt was based on a scene that happened to me in real life and so it was quite emotional for me to write. This chapter is dedicated to a friend of mine who (when she discovered her sexuality) fell into a very deep depression. I only found this out about her a few days ago, and I was close to tears when she told me. This is dedicated to all the victims of homophobia and I just want to say: stay strong. The bruises they leave on you don't own you; the words they say don't describe you. Only people who love and know you can offer words that describe who you are. The words of a stranger aren't a blurb to your story. The person who says those things probably hasn't even read the first paragraph of your life story, so they couldn't possibly summarise you with words like 'faggot' or 'dyke' or just thinks like 'sick' or 'disgusting'. Those words are hideous to hear but they aren't you. Stay strong ~ MaisyShane. **


	5. Threat And Fear

**Just quickly before the next chapter begins, I want to thank everyone who's reviewed. I want to thank ****Aria Cantata****for their lovely comment; I'm very happy you like my story and I want to thank you for your words regarding the homophobic bullying. It is a difficult chapter in every gay/bisexual persons' life and it is one that is still going on in mine, though it isn't as bad as it was in my last year of secondary school (high school) when I was outed by a friend. I love writing about Kurt because I simply admire his strength and the respect he has for himself, respect that I wish I'd had at his age. I regret being the sixteen-year-old teenager who was so terrified of people finding out I was gay. Strength to you and all of the closeted and open gay/bisexual teenagers and even adults out there. MaisyShane. **

He had been running for what felt like hours; his legs felt like they were filled with tiny beads and could not hold him up, a deep ache clutching at the back of his calves. Every time his foot struck the ground he thought he would collapse, unable to take his own weight anymore. Freezing cold water flicked up against him as he sprinted through puddles, nothing compared to the rain showering down on him, hard as bullets against his skin. Against his cheeks, a hotter liquid poured, tears cascading down and dribbling down to his chin. He didn't even bother wiping them away. He was frightened, terrified of stopping. If he stopped, something will grab him. Something will hurt him. He heard the footsteps thundering behind him, felt the hot breath prickle against the side of his throat and he buckled under it, landing painfully on his knee. His yelp cracked the air like a high pitched yowl of a dog having just been shot. Hands grabbed him, clutching him. He didn't know who was holding him but he started to shout, for anyone to hear, for anyone to come to his aid. But no one did and something hard hit his face. Not a fist...but a mouth.

Kurt tossed around in his bed, his stomach plummeted and he jolted awake, the icy sweat soaking his body as he trembled. He'd never had such a vivid nightmare before, never mind one that had kept his heart beating as fast as it had been in the dream as if he had indeed been chased. He whimpered, sitting up slowly in his bed, scanning the room to ensure no one was standing in the corner. He caught his breath when his eyes landed on Blaine, who was still fast asleep. He relaxed when he remembered that he'd invited him over to stay the night, that he wasn't a threat. Kurt placed his hand over his chest, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply to calm himself. He didn't want to be seen this vulnerable, this positively naked and fragile but he needed someone. It was as if he been changed back into a child, driven to consciousness by a bad dream and needed the protection and the sense of reality from someone he loved, from someone who would cuddle him and remind him it was only a dream, that it hadn't happened.

"B-Blaine..." Kurt whimpered. When he received no response, he cleared his throat and tried a little louder. "Blaine."

Blaine stirred in Finn's bed, eyes blearily opening. Kurt met them, already feeling the wave of relief tumble over him, knocking away those pebbles of despair and carrying them away. He held out his hand.

"Blaine...come into my bed with me..."

Blaine sat up, rubbing his eyes with the ball of his palm, his jet hair sticking up awkwardly in some places. He squinted at Kurt, still half asleep.

"What is it, Kurt?" Blaine mumbled, stifling a yawn.

"C-come into my bed with me," Kurt repeated, a faint warmth brushing over his face, painting him a light shade of pink. He was aware how childish this request sounded, a second one that sounded positively pathetic and needy in his mind but right then he couldn't care less. He wanted Blaine beside him, wanted to feel the body of reality lying next to him, reminding him that he wasn't outside in the rain.

Blaine seemed reluctant. Not because he didn't want to share a bed, but because he was so tired. They had spent the entire night watching movies on the sofa, eating popcorn and then they talked for an hour or two about positively anything. It was two o'clock when they had both parted to their separate beds...it was another hour until they had stopped talking and exchanging giggles and had fallen fast asleep. It was now five and Blaine wasn't accustomed to waking so early and was on the brink of just collapsing back onto his pillow and falling back to sleep. Nevertheless, he groggily rose and stumbled across to Kurt's bed. Kurt shuffled to give Blaine room and the other boy got in.

Blaine and Kurt faced one another, their features barely visible in the dark. Kurt's hand, which was up by his pillow, was covered with Blaine's, fingers slipping in between one another, binding them together. The darkness borrowed them sort of confidence. Unable to see each other properly, the both of them allowed themselves to become vulnerable. They didn't hesitate about shifting closer to each other, their bodies touching, lightly at first and then much closer. Their chests pressed against one another, hearts pounding in unison. Kurt inhaled, the smell of Blaine soaking his senses until they were dripping with the scent, one that he could only identify as aftershave; sweet and refreshing. He briefly wondered how he smelled, wondering if Blaine was thinking the same thing about him. Blaine touched his forehead with his fingertips, trailing slowly down the side of his face until they greeted the centre of his chin. Kurt shivered as the other boy explored his face, closing his eyes.

"Open them..." Blaine breathed when he shut them.

Kurt obliged, eyes fluttering open to meet the barely visible ones of Blaine's that shone dimly in the shadow of his bedroom. Blaine's touch trickled down his throat, rising over the slight Adam's apple and resting over his heart as if his hand was a car making important pit stops, the main attractions of Kurt Hummel. Kurt had never been touched in this way before. Sure Brittany had cupped his ass (or at least tried to as he kept removing her hand) and...Karofsky had held his face but that was about it. Neither of them had touched him so slowly, so deliberately with such care and attentiveness. He felt extremely exposed and bare, but he didn't pull away, he didn't voice these feelings. He just stared, not daring to blink in case he missed something. Kurt wanted to be kissed...wanted to be kissed on his own accord, by someone who he cared about in that way. He wondered what Blaine's lips tasted like; they wouldn't taste like root beer and they wouldn't feel coarse. He was curious about how he'd feel about their mouths touching.

Blaine half smiled as he felt Kurt's heartbeat quicken under his palm and shifted further downwards until he was resting on Kurt's stomach. He applied a second hand, adding it onto Kurt's side, smoothing his hands round onto the lower back. Kurt winced as the bruises sang out their piercing tune. Blaine's hands froze for a moment, not missing the wrinkling of Kurt's nose and the squint of his eye in pain. He didn't ask, he didn't look, he understood. Blaine gently moved his hands upwards until they were over the shoulder blades. Once there, he enveloped the boy in an embrace, arms tying around him like ribbons around a precious gift. Kurt held the boy in return, breathing in sharply as he felt Blaine's lips press against the side of his neck. The lips left for a moment as Blaine whispered, breath hot against his skin.

"You have nothing to be scared of...I'm here...for as long as you'll have me..."

Blaine removed himself the second the last letter spilled from his tongue, eyes already shut as if he had fulfilled his purpose and was returning to sleep. Kurt stared for a while at the boy sleeping beside him, practically quivering in his pyjamas. That instance had been the most intimate he'd ever shared with anyone, and nothing had really even happened. They hadn't been making out, they hadn't been doing anything further...their lips hadn't even greeted but all the same, it felt much more than that and Kurt was moved. The closeness turned the butterflies in his stomach loose for the first time since he used to gaze longingly at Finn, and they rampaged in absolute delight, batting their wings furiously and refusing to quieten when he firmly told himself that it was nothing, that Blaine didn't see him in that way. Kurt wanted to believe, for just a second, that Blaine reciprocated his feelings. Just for a second, he wanted that contact, wanted to play pretend.

Kurt imagined that Blaine was his boyfriend, that they were sharing this bed not out of fear but out of love, out of needing to be together. As he rested his cheek against his pillow, he didn't shift his gaze. He just watched Blaine sleep, watching the eyelids twitch, the chest rise and fall in a measured rhythm. Kurt wondered what Blaine was dreaming about, and speculated if he was in them. His long nose; his triangle-shaped eyebrows; his olive skin; his pink cupid bow lips that shot an arrow through Kurt's heart every time he spoke. Kurt allowed himself to sink into sleep, the dreams filled with fear and danger replaced by ones filled with Blaine's voice, Blaine's face...and Blaine's touch...

**000**

The day opened up like a brand new chapter, and Blaine was standing once again on the Hummel doorstep, though this time it was to say goodbye and walk away, back to his car and back home. He looked up into Kurt's blue-green eyes as he spoke.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I could stay until Finn came back," Blaine offered, though he was proposing this for his own selfish desire of staying with Kurt a while longer as well as genuine concern.

Kurt shook his head. "I'll be fine, I promise," he assured him, hugging himself tightly as if to hide his appearance away from Blaine. He had noticed, with absolute horror that morning, that he had forgotten his moisturising routine the night previous and felt positively revolting, wondering if his skin looked oily in the garish midday lighting. "I'll...call you tonight, okay?" he grimaced at how clingy he sounded again though didn't have time to correct himself as Blaine started talking.

"You better or else I'm going to call you," Blaine said brightly, holding out his pinky finger. When Kurt looked bemusedly at it, he rolled his eyes, his voice thick with amusement. "Lock your pinky finger with mine, dummy. It's an unbreakable vow!"

"Unbreakable vow, huh?" Kurt laughed, his pinky tying around Blaine's like a ring. Their fingers held for a while, swaying from side to side as if they were slow dancing. The two boys grinned at one another sheepishly.

"Now you _**have**_ to call me," Blaine said, returning his hand to his jacket pocket. He changed tones. "Hey, Kurt...can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Kurt accepted, puzzled.

"Why did you ask me to get into your bed last night?"

Kurt, flushing, stared at the ground, stabbing the ground with the toe of his shoe, twisting it round nervously. The butterflies had an utter riot in his stomach as he felt Blaine's eyes on him, stripping him down to the core.

"I just...had a bad dream...damn scary movies, I was never really good at them," Kurt brushed it off, pressing his lips together.

Blaine was aware this wasn't the entire truth but, again, let it alone. "I guess next weekend I won't take you to a scary movie. You still owe me a date after all and I wouldn't want our first date to give you nightmares."

Kurt's head shot up, gaping at him, unsure if he'd misheard. "Did you just say date?"

"Yeah," Blaine admitted, reddening. "I did. It isn't your terrible hearing, I assure you. So, is that a yes to next Saturday then?"

Kurt didn't know what to do. No one had ever openly invited him out onto a date before. What was he supposed to do? Play it cool? Say calmly that he had to check his calendar to check if he was available like they did in the movies? Or did he do what he really felt like doing and bounce up and down on the spot, squealing like a little girl? He batted the corners of his mouth down so he wasn't grinning like an utter fool as Blaine looked knowingly at him, as if he was reading him like a novel he had read on numerous occasions, seeing the next plot twist from a mile away.

"Okay..." Kurt croaked; he cleared his throat to try again. "Okay."

Blaine literally beamed at him. "Great, I'll pick you up at one next Saturday. See you, Kurt."

"See you," Kurt breathed, staring after Blaine's back until he had gotten into his car. The Dalton student rolled down his car window and waved out of it; Kurt rippled his fingers in return before turning back into the house, shutting the door behind him. He pressed himself against it as soon as it was closed, flattened with shock.

Kurt couldn't restrain the delighted yelp that broke from his lips. Despite being alone, he clamped both hands over his mouth just in case someone was listening. He twirled himself around, laughing quietly to himself. He wanted to tell someone, anyone. He wanted to call his dad to tell him the good news, wanted Finn to come back early and explode the words that he and Blaine were going out on an official date next week. Kurt replayed Blaine asking him in his head over and over again like a much loved song, not sure what to do with himself so he paced the hallway hungrily with haste, and every now and then a slight spring came into his step as he blasted out every love song he had on his iPod.

**000**

Dave couldn't retain his anger, pounding his fist with brute force into the table, causing all the heads in the coffee shop to turn in shock, exchanging confused whispers. Azimo couldn't help but be slightly entertained by his friend's sudden outburst, a smirk tweaking his mouth. Karofsky clenched his jaw, leaning in closer to hiss at him.

"You think that's funny? I could've been caught! Then I'd have been really expelled and my dad would've made me leave Ohio altogether. Why do you always take it too far?"

"Me?" Azimo bristled at the tone that was been taken with him. "You're the one that wanted to punch the gay mother fucker. I just did what you told me."

"You were supposed to keep Hudson away from the building," Karofsky snapped lowly, starting to get a little hot under the collar as people continued to stare. "He could've found me. I was lucky I had run off before he had chance."

"Do you think Hummel will tell?"

Karofsky turned cold at the notion. "No, I don't think so. But just to be sure, I might have to pay the queer another visit."

Azimo was all for a good beating, but he had the sense to stop and leave it alone...at least for a while. His brows furrowed. "Don't you think you're rushing things? Draw it out a bit, man. Bide your time."

"I can't do that if Hummel is telling people what I did. He has a bruise to prove it this time too..."

"That's why I advise you avoid the face next time. It's too noticeable; even if the faggot doesn't tell, he still has a black eye or a fat lip to draw attention to himself. I advise the stomach, myself; both painful and easily covered up."

Karofsky ran a hand shakily through his hair, thinking of Hudson finding out and telling everyone, and of what his father would do. He felt a twinge of regret but swiftly knocked it aside, reminding himself that it was too late now and he had to ensure that Hummel told no one. He watched his friend from the corner of his eye; he contemplated asking for Azimo's help but chose not to since he had nearly been caught the last time. No, Dave was going this alone now. It was his mess. He had to fix it and fast.

"I'm gonna go," Azimo announced, tugging his arms through his uniform sleeves. He rose and paused, glancing over at Karofsky. "Man, what you do is up to you but seriously...if you drag me into this shit, I swear I won't let it go. Just be careful whatever you do. But I'm out of this now."

"Good." Karofsky said flatly, raising his head.

Azimo stared for a moment, the reaction not one he expected in the slightest. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it, shaking his head a little before turning and leaving. Karofsky followed not long after, getting into his dad's car and pulling out. As he drove, he thought about everything, about what he'd do. He decided to go with Azimo's advice to not leave a mark on the face this time since it would draw attention, and he decided that he would make a move as soon as he got the chance. He wasn't going to risk everything and put it to chance that Hummel wouldn't spill his guts again. Dave had been halted by a red traffic light when he had turned his head, glancing around in boredom as he waited impatiently, for his eyes to land on Hummel. It was complete coincidence that he had stumbled across the faggot's house, complete and utter chance. Dave stared in shock, fingers tightening on the wheel as he saw that Hummel was not alone. A boy with dark hair who was just a little bit shorter wearing a navy blue sweatshirt was squeezing past him, a stupid assed grin on his face.

Karofsky observed at a distance, the light turning green but he took no notice. No one was behind him anyway; it was deserted considering it was a Sunday morning. The other boy had turned round to face Hummel, speaking for a while and then he had extended his hand. Karofsky couldn't quite see but he knew it wasn't a handshake. They were holding hands. It felt as though his stomach had been torn open, spilling its contents onto the ground leaving him feeling cold and hollow. Boyfriend. Hummel had a boyfriend. Why did that bother let alone surprise him? Dave assured himself he was troubled because it had disturbed him to think of all their disgusting activities together and that it had made him feel sick. But it was quite the opposite. He refused to admit that he was jealous and slammed his foot down on the accelerator.

He wasn't jealous. He didn't care. He didn't want to be in that boy's position. He didn't want to hold Kurt's hand. He didn't. He just didn't.

When he was home, Dave tore up the stairs up to his room; he kicked everything he could in sight to vent his frustration. He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand. He told himself over and over that he was just made sick to the stomach at the sight of two guys holding hands, that he despised them for it. Dave thought about Hummel. He thought about him for a long time, until he had used up every derogative term in his diction in reference to him. He grew tired and allowed the piercing emotion strike him over and over as if he were the strings of a violin lying victim to the bow of jealousy.

**000**

Kurt hadn't been quite the same since Karofsky had returned to McKinley; everyone had noticed this from as early as Monday when he had practically snapped at every single person who inquired about the bruise on his face. He seemed irritated by the fact they cared, by their reactions although they were certain he'd react the same as them if it was the other way around. The only person who mentioned his foul attitude was Mercedes who, frankly, wasn't going to let her friend talk to her that way.

"Kurt, what the hell is up with you?" Mercedes demanded when he'd told her to 'leave it' after she had simply asked what had happened.

"Well sorry Mercedes but I'm fed up of people asking what's wrong with my face," Kurt retorted, refusing to even look at her for his eyes were welling up with tears. "I hit my face when I opened the cupboard door on Saturday."

"That's not what Finn's been telling people," she said, folding her arms as he continued to shuffle through his belongings in his locker. "He said you told him you got slushied and that caused the bruise."

"If you had that information, why bother asking?" Kurt challenged, furiously swiping away the tears that had started to teeter and fall.

"'Cos I'm worried about you, Kurt. You don't expect me to buy that crap, do you? I don't buy the whole cupboard thing either." Her voice softened as she leaned in closer. "Has Karofsky threatened you again?"

Kurt paused. He wanted to tell her, more than anything. He hated being defensive, he hated feeling that he had to isolate himself to avoid people from prying into what had happened to him. The more they asked, the more he caved and he couldn't risk it. Not after Karofsky had actually hit him. He'd never hit Kurt before, and that had warned him that this was serious and wasn't just a threat. It would really happen this time if he told.

"No, Mercedes," Kurt lied after a moment of silence, hoping that his lack of speaking hadn't drawn suspicion. "Karofsky hasn't even spoken to me since he apologised."

Mercedes wasn't convinced, not in the slightest. She didn't let things go to a pissy tone like Finn did. Just because Kurt was becoming more agitated, didn't mean she was going to drop the subject. She would push and shove until she got the truth out of her friend, even if it cost her a few days of arguing.

"Kurt, please..." she pleaded. "You can tell me anything. I'm your best friend."

Kurt closed his locker door and looked to his friend sadly. The tears still shimmered in his eyes and she didn't miss them. Her heart broke slightly. He shook his head.

"There's nothing to tell," Kurt whispered, voice cracking and he walked away as quick as he possibly could to retreat to the boys' bathroom to rid himself of any evidence of crying.

He locked himself in one of the cubicles and allowed the tears their freedom, wiping them away with his sleeve and stifling the sniffs and trembling breaths just in case anyone came in. Kurt pulled himself a few tissues, stuffing them into his bag and keeping one for the present, rubbing his eyes with it. It took him a few minutes to pull himself together, and then he flushed the toilet as if he had been using it.

As soon as he unlocked the door, someone pulled it open from his grasp. He let out a startled yelp, about to make a sarcastic remark about teenagers and their patience these days, when his eyes met those of Dave Karofsky. The remark, needless to say, was long forgotten and he blinked rapidly, as if he blinked the right amount of times Karofsky would disappear like a bad dream. But he didn't and he pushed Kurt back into the cubicle, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Have you told anyone?" Karofsky growled, his hands visibly clenched at his sides.

Kurt tried to speak but found himself stricken dumb by Karofsky's sheer presence. Instead, he feebly shook his head from side to side, swallowing hard and allowing a small, strangled gasp to flee from his mouth. Karofsky seemed to temporarily relax, and Kurt knew that the question had been eating him away since Friday.

"Good," Karofsky continued. "If you do...I won't hesitate to make a move. Do you get me?" again, Kurt could only nod. "If you do tell anyone, not only will I get you," Karofsky added. "But I'll also get your boyfriend too. Yeah, I saw you two holding hands at your house yesterday. It's just sick that you have to rub your...your sick ways in everyone's faces."

"Holding hands? Yeah...I'm sure I converted a bunch of straight guys, right?" Kurt rejoined furiously before he could stop himself. "I'm sure watching straight couples holding hands will turn you straight, someday."

Karofsky thrust out a hand as soon as Kurt had finished his sentence, clutching the collar of his shirt and tugging him harshly closer, faces inches apart as they had been before in the locker room.

"You sure do spew a lot of shit, Hummel," Karofsky said throw tightly gritted teeth as if to restrain the yell that was desperate to break loose. "I'm being serious. If you tell anyone anything, I will just have to pay a visit to your boyfriend too."

"Leave Blaine out of this, he's not even my boyfriend!" Kurt exclaimed to have a hand clamped over his mouth, fingers digging into his cheeks painfully.

"Hold. Your. Tongue." Karofsky spat. "Get a head start on the not telling anyone part by shutting the fuck up. Maybe you don't understand how serious I'm being. Maybe we should replay Friday to ensure the message really does sink in."

Karofsky dropped both of his hands; Kurt felt the urge to straighten up his heavily creased collar but he didn't dare move an inch just in case, glowering with defiance at the much taller student. Kurt mentally prepared himself for another punch, to be clutched and grabbed again but Karofsky didn't do either of them. He just unlocked the door without averting his gaze and then walked out as if nothing had happened, the cubicle door crashing as it collided with the one next to it, groaning as it drifted back to its position.

Kurt's chest rose and fell rapidly, gulping the air as if he was parched although he felt so light headed already. His knees buckled as he stood there, putting his hand over his mouth. He wanted to cry out, he wanted to shout so that someone would come to him, would hold him upright while he gathered himself. But no one would come to him, even if he did. He was already too late to attend his lesson, so Kurt took the time to splash water on his extremely hot face in the bathroom sink. He steadied himself on the sink, leaning over it as if to vomit. Although he felt sick, he couldn't bring anything up. Karofsky would hurt Blaine...would he? Would he really? Kurt decided instantaneously that he would; Karofsky was capable of it. Kurt began to feel dizzier than before; his body would undoubtedly be swaying if it wasn't for his hands grasping the sink.

By the time Glee Club drew around, Kurt still hadn't entirely collected himself but was able to walk without leaning against something. He felt smothered by an unbelievable heat and his throat felt as if it had closed though he could just about manage to breathe. Kurt was the first member there and he sat himself down at the back, folding his arms and bouncing his knee up and down as he impatiently waited for the rest of the club to arrive. It wasn't long before Rachel strode in excitedly, around six sheets of A4 paper in the nook of her arm. She appeared surprised to see she wasn't the first to turn up but didn't really say anything...well, not anything of extreme importance. Rachel talked mostly to herself about the solo she should be getting, about how she spent all of last night looking for a song that would showcase how much she deserved at least a lead singing role. Kurt couldn't even move his lips to let out short 'Yeah's or 'Uh-huh's. She wasn't bothered much though, and turned her attention to her boyfriend when he entered the room, Puck, Sam and Mike in tow.

In the space of five minutes, everyone, save Mr. Schue, had entered, chattering animatedly about things Kurt couldn't catch. Mercedes planted herself down next to him, revolving in her seat to face him but he didn't reciprocate the movement, eyes glazed as he listlessly stared ahead. Her words seemed to bound right over him, and after a few failed attempts just stopped. She fought her irritation down as she spoke to Artie and Tina instead, waving off their questions about Kurt as if it was no big deal, but inside she was hurting.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," Mr. Schue apologised, nearly jogging into the room. He clapped his hands together, the sound ringing out and killing the talk between the McKinley students, each of their faces on him. "Before you say anything, Rachel," he inserted when Rachel went to stand. "We really need to check on how everything is now. At the end of the session, we'll have a vote on whether or not we should scrap the current set list and replace it with a new one. Um...Kurt, can we have a look at your solo?"

Kurt started at the use of his name. His heart felt as though it was beating weirdly in his chest, and he felt perspiration break out over his skin. He licked his extremely dry lips about to speak, to tell Mr. Schue that he wasn't feeling up to it when he noticed everyone was watching him, everyone was waiting for him to give some sign that everything wasn't okay. He had to make out that nothing was wrong. Kurt shakily rose to his feet and made his way down to the front, his heavy breathing echoing in his head, filling up the quiet spaces of the room. All eyes were on him. The music started and he inhaled, closed his eyes and started to sing.

**Time**

**To tell me the truth**

**To burden the mouth with what you say**

**No pieces of paper in the way**

**Cause I can't continue**

**Pretending to choose**

**These opposite sides on which we fall**

**No right minds could be wrong this many times...**

Kurt tried to carry on singing, but he was aware he was kind of off. He was behind, he was lagging behind the piano and he knew everyone else had noticed too. He felt his knees knock together and his body starting to lose balance, like he was gradually tipping over. It was only a matter of time before he gave way. Kurt's breaths caught in his chest, and he opened his eyes to find his vision was blurry. He'd stopped singing altogether and the piano had also ceased to play. Kurt heard his name dimly being called and found himself inhaling too quickly, the breaths deep and the exhales short and trapping the air in his mouth, suffocating himself. Pain squeezed in his chest and he let out a whimper before collapsing onto the ground. Rachel's scream pierced him. He didn't quite hit the ground. Someone was holding him up. Cradling him.

"Kurt...Kurt...calm down, Kurt...breathe in and out slowly..." Mr. Schue was saying frantically.

"What's wrong with him? Is he having a heart attack?" Finn's panicked voice rang out to his right. His hand touched Kurt's shoulder.

"Who has he loved too much?" Brittany said, though no humour was drawn from the remark.

"No...Not a heart attack," Mr. Schue assured them both, sitting Kurt upright. "He's having a panic attack. Santana, go get the school nurse. Kurt, calm down. You're not breathing properly."

Kurt tried to regulate his breathing but his chest was wound too tight. It felt as if he wasn't accepting any oxygen so he continued to suck in the air as fast as he could, unable to exhale properly. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and thought of Blaine, thought about Saturday, about how he'd held him, how he'd kissed his neck, how he'd asked him out on a date. But the image of Karofsky sliced into each and every one of those images and dominated his thoughts...

**TBC **

**Please review. I struggled to write this chapter, but I'm glad it's finished now. **

**Song – Between the Lines by Sara Bareilles **


	6. You're Perfect

Blaine Anderson had been walking down the hallway having dispersed from a vigorous rehearsal when he spotted a boy who was 6'3 and blatantly not a student at Dalton Academy. Finn Hudson stood awkwardly in a cloud of blazer clad students, who cast him perplexed looks as they passed him; he kept peering through the crowd and he perked up at the sight of Blaine, raising a hand as if to draw attention to himself though a majority of the academy had their attention on him. Blaine raised a hand in response, frowning in confusion as he approached Kurt's stepbrother, slight apprehension in his steps. He wasn't sure why Finn had turned up and started to speculate if something bad had occurred; his steps hastened.

"Hey," Finn greeted, seemingly just noticing how everyone was staring at him now he wasn't focused on searching for Blaine. "Why is everybody looking at me?"

Blaine tried to remain serious. "Oh, they're not used to seeing people out of uniform here that's all. So, what brings you here?"

The colour in Finn's face drained and he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. He gestured that they moved to a quiet corner to speak; this alone made Blaine's concerns even more vibrant. His blood had started to run cool in his veins and he began to wring his hands the way he did whenever he was nervous or upset. Blaine refused to avert his gaze from Finn just in case he missed anything; he wanted to know what was wrong immediately. He hoped he had misread the body language and the tone and that everything was fine, that Finn had just wanted some kind of sex talk due to being the older brother now and everything. Blaine would've killed for the sex talk at that moment in time.

"Kurt had a panic attack at school yesterday," Finn explained slowly. "I-I took him home but he refuses to let me call Burt and my mom to tell them what happened. He's barely saying anything to anyone and Mercedes told me that she'd seen him crying earlier before he...y'know. He refuses to tell me what's up and maybe...since you're kinda..." he shifted from one foot to another in discomfort.

Blaine didn't really need to hear the rest. He knew what was being asked of him and he had already been intending to do the very same thing the instant he'd been told that Kurt had had a panic attack. He nodded to assure the other boy that he needn't say anything more and mumbled something along the lines of 'I'll get permission to leave'. Blaine stiffly walked away, not really aware of Finn trailing behind him, not wanting to be alone in a place strange to him. Blaine was sure he may also have a panic attack at the rate his heart was going. What made him feel worse was that he knew the reason behind it all and the thought of that reason made not only his stomach churn but his blood reheat itself and boil, stinging his skin. Had Kurt been hurt again? Had Karofsky laid another finger on him? Blaine couldn't help but picture Kurt covered in further bruises and it nudged him on to the brink of tears.

"Um...I need an approval to leave the school grounds temporarily," Blaine said to the receptionist who looked up at him brightly. She nodded understandably once she saw that his eyes were shining in the light, a sure sign that something was wrong. She wrote a note down, taking his name, student reference number, what time he was leaving and what time he'd return. He promised to be back the following day, although he wasn't entirely certain that that was going to happen. It all depended on what occurred when he saw Kurt later.

"Okay, Mr. Anderson," the receptionist said, handing him the slip once she had signed it. "You now have permission to leave the school grounds. If for any reason you need to prolong your absence, call the number at the bottom. Thank you."

Blaine thanked her and turned to Finn. "Let's go."

The atmosphere in the car to Lima was uneasy, the pair of them not really sure whether to talk light-heartedly or to discuss the incident. Blaine itched to find out what had happened, and if it was really serious or what. He despised not knowing with absolute passion, cooped up in his own thoughts the majority of the drive there.

"So are you and Kurt like...dating now?"

Blaine blinked dumbly, his thoughts subdued for a moment as he turned to look at Finn in bewilderment. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know," Finn admitted embarrassedly, a hue of pink rising on his cheeks. "I mean, it was kinda like...a date on Saturday, yeah? You two seemed really flirty and stuff. I don't know if that's how..." he bit his tongue to prevent himself from adding 'gay guys act'. He was still learning to evade hurting anyone's feelings with his lack of tactfulness.

Blaine wasn't sure himself. He knew that he cared a lot for Kurt, and that he liked him and his company. But were they dating now? He'd asked him on a date—maybe they were.

"I really care about him if that's what you mean," Blaine replied.

"If you ask me, I think you like him a lot," Finn pointed out, now turning red at the tips of his ears. "The way you guys act around each other. I can tell when Kurt's flirting 'cos...well let's just say before we were stepbrothers he tried them on me but you seem to do be doing it all right back to him. And dude, you made up your mind to come to Lima before I could even ask. You didn't even ask if it was serious or anything, you just straight up booked yourself out. Friends care but they tend to ask questions first. When you love someone..."

"Love? Don't you think that's too strong a word?" Blaine interjected, getting highly shy over the entire subject. "I've only known Kurt for about a month or so. We're just friends." He'd referred to Kurt as a friend before, but never had he ever doubted the words. He'd never questioned it.

Finn raised and dropped his right shoulder. "Sometimes it isn't the amount of time you've known someone, y'know? You can't really measure feelings by time. I mean, a mom loves her kid before she's even met it. I know it's different but love can just hit you sometimes. It all depends on the person."

Blaine didn't quite know what to say in response to that so did not, turning to the window instead. Finn didn't say anything further either but he knew he'd struck a chord. Blaine churned Finn's words over in his mind, stirring each individual word round and round so he could analyse every single letter, taking it apart to understand it more. Blaine wasn't in love. He couldn't be. Didn't he have to be in a relationship to be in love? Didn't he have to have at least kissed said person? He and Kurt hadn't really kissed. They had simply cuddled. How did that make him feel? He relived the moment but could scarcely remember every detail so it wasn't entirely reliable. But something squirmed inside of him still.

**000**

Kurt lay curled up in his bed, his body still vibrating under the sheets, jolts of chilliness striking him without warning every now and then. Even though he was still feverish, he pulled the duvet up higher over his nose. It still smelled like Blaine's aftershave. He closed his eyes, feeling nauseous again. Finn had left the house over an hour ago, apparently to get some lunch. It was Tuesday now and Kurt had been feeling too under the weather to go to school. Unable to leave his stepbrother, Finn insisted on having the day off also to keep an eye on him. So far, he was doing a good job.

He had kind of passed out after his panic attack during Glee Club the day previous and awoke in the nurse's office, a timid Finn standing at his right side, a concerned Mr. Schuster at his left and a rather pissed off Sue Sylvester pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed, swearing so vehemently that Mr. Schue had to keep warning her to watch her language, earning a very colourful response from the ex-principal. When the two adults had noticed Kurt was awake, they began to gently pry for answers, inquiring what had brought on his attack and if Dave Karofsky had anything to do with it. Kurt had assured them that that wasn't the case and explained that he had just been missing his dad having not been apart from him in such a long time. Finn temporarily bought the excuse, half smiling as if in relief, when Sue cut down his tiny tree of hope by calling Kurt's reason, quote: 'bullshit'.

"C'mon, Porcelain," Sue had said, her dark blue eyes studying his. "You and I both know that that is a load of...nonsense." she corrected herself under Mr. Schue's stare. "You're trying to tell me a seventeen-year-old boy is missing his dad? No sir. At least, not after four days. It's something more. Something you're hiding."

"I'm not hiding anything," Kurt had insisted. "Karofsky hasn't even approached me really since he apologised."

"Define really," Sue said.

"Sue," Mr. Schue interrupted her interrogation. "Kurt needs his rest. He's going home in a minute. You can talk to him about this later when he feels better."

Sue Sylvester gnawed her bottom lip in defeat. "If this was concerning any other student like Frankenteen here, William, I probably would have shaved your head and lent that abomination to the next Lord of the Rings movie for one of those hobbit people to wear but since it's involving dear Porcelain here...I'll let that slide." She clapped Kurt's knee. "Feel better soon, kiddo." And she was gone. Not long after, the nurse came in. She gave him a quick check up and told him to inform someone if any of the symptoms returned, drawing out a long list that consisted of things like blurriness, dizziness, trouble breathing, chest pains, headaches, overwhelming feeling of panic etc, etc. And then Kurt had gone home and straight to bed, and that's where he'd been since.

A lot of the New Direction members had called the house phone and flooded Finn with text messages, asking how Kurt was and what had happened. Finn, not entirely sure how to handle so much attention, turned his phone off in exasperation so now Kurt couldn't contact his stepbrother at all without hearing the same chirpy voicemail bite into his ear.

"Hi! It's me Finn...well you kinda know that cos...you're calling me so...it's Finn. You've reached Finn. Uh you kinda caught me while I'm busy, probably at school or something so leave a message if it's super important. If not, just text me. In fact just text me. So yeah thanks for calling sorry I'm not like available but hey it's your fault for not checking if I was av—" the voice cut off as he run out of time and Kurt tutted as he hung up, wondering why Finn had never redone it.

Kurt put the home phone down and puffed out his cheeks as he sighed. He was fed up of being alone; even though it had only really been an hour or so, he wanted to be around someone...anyone. He allowed himself to drift off into a dreamless sleep, wading through a darkness that seemed never ending but it was comfortable. When consciousness peeked through like a minute hole in a blanket of black, Kurt felt excess warmth surrounding his right hand. He was bewildered to what it was; all he knew was that he liked it and wanted to extend it so it cloaked him entirely. His eyes flickered open to find them locking with another pair. Two hazel ones gazed right back at him. Kurt could recognise them anywhere.

Blaine and Kurt watched one another closely; Kurt was not entirely positive that this wasn't just some pleasant dream and Blaine was trying his hardest to ignore the knot in his gut accompanied by the words Finn said. One word slammed him over and over again in the face like a fist. Love. Love. Love.

"Hey," Blaine whispered, grazing his thumb over the top of the other boy's hand. It was so soft...he hadn't noticed before.

"Hi," Kurt returned wearily. "Are you a dream?"

Blaine snorted but collected himself as he realised that Kurt was being serious. He pressed his lips together to trap the laughs as he shook his head.

"Uh no," he said once he trusted his mouth enough to open without a chuckle breaking free. "I'm quite real, I assure you." He tilted his head to the side. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Kurt confessed the bed so cosy it felt as if it was embracing him like a pair of arms. "My chest hurts a little..."

Something tugged unexpectedly at Blaine's heart. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No...it doesn't feel that bad now," Kurt rolled over to completely face him. "I'm not complaining or anything...but why are you here? Isn't it Tuesday? You left school for me?"

"I got permission to leave the grounds for the day," Blaine said. "Finn came to Dalton and told me what happened. That you'd had a panic attack." He looked down in embarrassment. "To be completely honest I haven't...been that scared in my whole life."

Kurt sat up slowly, perplexed. "It was only a panic attack, Blaine. Some people have them all the time."

"I know. It's just that...I know what caused it," Blaine forced himself to meet his eyes. "I know something must have happened with Karofsky." He knew he was right for the little colour in Kurt's face tripped and didn't rise again. "I know you don't like feeling...pathetic and vulnerable around other people, Kurt. That's why you never told anyone in the first place. That's why you insist on staying at McKinley. You don't want to seem weak. Being weak isn't always a negative...but Kurt, you're not weak. You're anything but that. You're..." his voice caught in his throat. "You're perfect, Kurt. You're not nothing; you're not just what those jocks label you as. You...you move me...Kurt. And when I thought about Karofsky hurting you again, something inside me just snapped. I realised that if anything happened to you..." tears started to swell. "I would be heartbroken. I've never grown so close to someone in such a short space of time. I denied everything I felt because it hasn't been long at all. I don't know your favourite colour or your entire past; I don't even know your birthday. When I tear our relationship apart and see it like that, I know that I shouldn't feel so strongly towards you. But you know what? I don't...I don't even care. What I do know, is that you are wonderful. You make me feel like a better person, you're everything I wished I could be, you're funny, you're sweet, you're caring, you're silly, you're thoughtful, you're so beautiful when you smile and when you look at me and when you sing...I've been looking for you forever. And knowing you for a short amount of time isn't going to let me allow myself to let you go. Kurt..."

Blaine rose from his seat, his free hand touching Kurt's cheek as he brushed his lips against the other boy's forehead. Blaine shut his eyes, lending him confidence; he shifted his mouth down, until it was a few inches away from Kurt's. He chose this moment to look, meeting the other boy's breathtaking blue-green eyes before closing the diminutive space between them. Their lips touched. Kurt's ears were practically ringing, sound temporarily on mute. It wasn't a collision this time. It was like a book that had been left open was finally being sealed, the two ends meeting and clicking, creating one story, one entity. That instant they became one; rather than two halves they became whole. They were entire, they were fixed. Kurt didn't feel broken anymore. His eyelids dropped like curtains closing dramatically at the climax, and the audience roared with applause. He inhaled sharply, opening his mouth slightly. Blaine's mouth moulded to his as if the pair of them had been sculpted for each other, built around one another so they would fit perfectly the second they connected. Kurt's fingers stretched as the array of emotions threw themselves around inside of him, a pleasant sensation inflating in his stomach and his chest, his brain going numb as all he could think about was the boy who he was joined with. Blaine cupped his face, pulling him in closer as he went dizzy on the heat being exchanged from both their mouths, as if they were breathing life into one another. When they broke apart for their own air, it felt too bare, too cool and almost unnatural. They felt as if the warm breath of the other was their only oxygen.

Kurt gazed up at Blaine, a smile twitching the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure you're not a dream?" he said softly, clearly out of breath.

Blaine laughed and shook his head, touching the tip of his nose with the other boy's before kissing him again, lighter and shorter this time. Neither of them knew what to say; what could they possibly say to further exclaim their desire for one another? Blaine resumed his seat at Kurt's bedside, their hands still clasped though this time it was for a completely different purpose. Rather than a friend doing it out of comfort, he was something more than that...he wasn't sure if the correct term would be boyfriend at this point but he knew it was beyond friends now. No way would he return to being just that, and ridiculed himself for ever labelling himself as it, as being only Kurt's friend.

"Are you still okay for our date on Saturday then?" Blaine inquired, despite knowing the answer full well but still, he wanted to hear it.

Kurt beamed and his cheeks aflame as he nodded. "On one condition." Blaine's face fell for a millisecond, as if he expected it to be something big or something he couldn't possibly achieve. "You'll let me kiss you this time." His grin returned and he accepted.

Kurt pulled away his sheets and moved his legs around so they hung off the edge of the bed. Blaine half stood up from his chair, tilting his head to the right, Kurt to the left. Kurt knotted his fingers into the Dalton academy blazer as he pressed their lips together for the third time.

**000**

Mr. Schue struggled to keep up with the high pace of Sue as she marched along the field directly towards the McKinley football team, Becky in tow with Sue's megaphone at the ready. Will Schuster felt uneasy about storming up to Karofsky and demanding to find out if he had been harassing Kurt, but Sue was already thunderous and he would have to stand by to ensure she didn't lose control and attack the student. He wasn't certain why she had taken such a keen interest in this incident; students at McKinley High School were frequently complaining of being bullied; wasn't the Glee Club filled with kids who had been victimised simply for being gay or over-achievers or disabled or even just because they were members? Sue was aware of all the occurrences where Glee members were slushied or locked in a porter potty etc but never had she stepped up against it...in fact often she was the one dealing out cruelties. Maybe it was the death threat or maybe she just really had a soft spot for Kurt, Will didn't know but it unsettled him slightly to see Sue demonstrating human emotion.

"Megaphone, Becky," Sue said firmly as they stopped a few paces away from where the team were practicing. After being passed the device, she pressed it to her lips. "DAVE KAROFSKY GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE IMMEDIATELY!"

Dave Karofsky was easy to tell apart from the others even with his helmet on. He froze and his teammates looked at him in confusion, some throwing up their hands at their practice having been disturbed. Coach Beiste seemed just as annoyed, assuming it was Sue trying to be difficult and make her life miserable, but when she saw Will at her side, her creased features relaxed as she knew it wasn't Sue being...Sue. It was Sue doing her job. Shannon Beiste turned to Karofsky and gave him a shove in their direction when he didn't shift. Dave appeared reluctant to even approach Sue Sylvester, which ticked a box labelled 'guilty consciouses in Sue's mind. He removed his helmet and shrugged; he was a terrible actor too she noted.

"Dave, can we talk to you for a minute?" Will said, keeping his voice mellow and flat to refrain from jumping to conclusions; maybe Kurt was telling the truth and Dave had been as good as his word.

"William, next time you try to fill my mouth with your words I will report you for sexual harassment," Sue snapped. "You're here to look pretty so keep your words to yourself." She turned on Dave. "I'm not going to play nice with you. For two reasons. One, I don't play nice, and two, this is your second warning on the matter."

"What am I getting a warning on?" Karofsky seemed bemused. "I-I haven't done anything!"

"He seems pretty genuine, Sue," Will sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Well, murderers don't admit to killing their victims on the first question, William."

"Sue, this isn't a murder case! This is a student. Dave says he hasn't done anything, then he hasn't."

"What exactly have I supposed to have done?" Dave exclaimed.

Sue had her hand clenched into Karofsky's uniform, dragging him closer. Will immediately tried to intervene, to pull them apart before this could become a lawsuit. Sue was having none of it and stood her ground, her eyes sharp as knives. Coach Beiste had noticed and had chosen this instant to bolt over, her deep booming voice slapping the air.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Shannon Beiste roared, heaving Sue off of the student with very little force though it caused the ex-principal to let go, her jaw clenched.

"If you hurt Porcelain again," Sue spat through ground teeth. "I'll eat triple the nails I eat for breakfast to prepare myself to get through that thick, Neanderthal skull of yours, Karofsky."

Sue Sylvester shook off Will and Shannon's hands as they held her back. She touched Becky on the shoulder and they walked away together. Will Shuster was in utter shock, eyes bulging at the scene he'd just witnessed. Sue had threatened a student...that definitely wouldn't go down well with Figgins let alone Dave's parents. Dave was surprisingly silent throughout the entire spectacle, though he was ashen and just nodded when Beiste told him to rejoin the others, who all had their heads turned in their direction.

"What was all that about, Will?" Shannon asked; her voice was hoarse from the shouting.

Mr. Schue exhaled heavily. "Kurt had a panic attack today during Glee Club...and Sue thinks its Dave."

Coach Beiste didn't seem at all shocked and simply cast a quick glimpse at said boy as he reapplied his helmet. "Do you think he has?" she said lowly after an elongated pause.

"I'm not so sure," Will rubbed his weary eyes. "At first I did but Dave just seemed...I don't know, genuinely unaware of what had happened. Dave has threatened Kurt in the past, but according to Kurt he hasn't approached him let alone bullied him again since he came back and apologised. Sue isn't convinced..."

Dave Karofsky watched from the corner of his eye the conversation passing between his coach and Mr. Schue. He ignored everyone's prying questions and just warmed himself up again for when practice restarted. Despite his seemingly calm exterior, his heart was hammering in his chest and his blood was searing hot. It didn't take a genius to figure out to whom Sue was referring when she said 'Porcelain'.

**000**

"Please recite another one for me," Kurt half pleaded with Blaine as they lay on their backs on his bed, gazing up at the ceiling as if it were a night sky sprinkled with glittering stars.

"Aw c'mon I'm getting tired of hearing my own voice," Blaine laughed, his arm wound around Kurt's shoulders as the other boy leaned against him, head rested on his chest. When those beseeching eyes looked up at him, he gave in. "Fine, fine. This is a personal favourite of mine.

_**Busy old fool, unruly Sun,**_

_**Why dost thou thus,**_

_**Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?**_

_**Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?**_

_**Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide**_

_**Late school-boys and sour prentices, **_

_**Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,**_

_**Call country ants to harvest offices; **_

_**Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, **_

_**Nor hours, days, months, which are rags of time.**_

_**Thy beams so reverend, and strong**_

_**Why shouldst thou think?**_

_**I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,**_

_**But that I would not lose her sight so long.**_

_**If her eyes have not blinded thine,**_

_**Look, and to-morrow late tell me,**_

_**Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine,**_

_**Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me.**_

_**Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,**_

_**And thou shalt hear, 'All here in one bed lay.'**_"

Kurt stared at the boy beside him long after he had finished reciting the poem. Blaine grinned, pressing a kiss to Kurt's forehead. "You're too adorable when you stare like that," he murmured. "Stop or I'm going to overload."

"How do you know so many poems off by heart? Lonely Saturday nights well spent?"

Blaine stuck out his tongue. "No um...my dad really likes poetry. For all of my birthdays since I was little, my dad has bought me a book of collected poems from a writer. The poet you just heard, John Donne, was for my sixth birthday. That and every OTHER Saturday spent alone."

Kurt didn't say anything for a while, just kept his eyes on Blaine's shirt as if it greatly interested him. Eventually, he asked the question that had been bothering him. "Would your parents...like me? I mean, they do know you're...gay, right?"

Blaine dropped his jaw in feign shock. "LIKE you? Kurt, they're going to freaking love you. And yes they know. My dad's known since he bought me Oscar Wilde for my twelfth...he was a gay poet," he elaborated after a confused look. "My dad was the most supportive when I came out. My mom was in denial for a while...but she came around. She still tells her friends and our family members that I have girlfriends whenever they ask so it's kinda awkward when my grandmother tells me to invite Wendy over next weekend and I have no idea who Wendy is. How about your dad?"

"He knows, he's known since I was three...apparently," Kurt said. "My mom supposedly knew too but I don't know. If it wasn't for my dad, if he was any different I don't know where I'd be right now. He supports me no matter what...and I love him. He's everything to me." He bit the inside of his cheek. "In a way, we're both kind of lucky."

Blaine nodded in agreement. "We just have to figure out your school situation now." When Kurt looked up at him in horror, he touched his index finger to his lips to prevent him from protesting. "I won't say anything, I promise you. It's all up to you. I will only get involved if you get hurt. Now you just have to promise to tell me if it does come to that." His touch moved to the bruise that glared against the supple white skin. "You don't have to hide from me...Kurt."

And with that, Blaine kissed the boy beside him for what seemed the trillionth time and he couldn't wait until he could do it again, even as their lips were still moving against one another. Kurt couldn't even get his head around the fact he was kissing Blaine Anderson; he couldn't overcome that quite yet. He and Blaine were to share a bed again that night. They laughed and held one another, playfully argued over who was to be the little spoon, which Kurt wound up being in the end, and they fell asleep in that position, fully dressed and not in the least uncomfortable.

Finn came down at midnight to go to bed, and stopped at the sight of Kurt and Blaine embracing. When Finn and his mom had first moved in with Burt and Kurt Hummel, he initially dreaded the day he would stumble on Kurt being with another guy. He'd felt sick and it had turned him even more against living there, but now the moment had arrived and he didn't feel revolted. He blinked dumbly in the dark for some time, just watching how Kurt nuzzled into Blaine's chest if they drifted even the slightest apart, how Blaine would pull him closer and inhale deeply, a sigh of content. Finn surprised himself by finding a half smile raising the corner of his mouth, but he didn't correct himself, there was no need. He clambered into his bed and well asleep. He wasn't ill at ease, he wasn't thinking of it being two men cuddling in the bed next to him, he saw it as two people who cared for one another, on the brink of falling in love, getting ready for the tumble.

**TBC**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter; more to come soon. I really loved the idea of Blaine being into poetry and reciting them to Kurt; it's something I love doing when I'm with someone I really care for. I tried to slip in a few of my favourite poet/writer's names. The poem he reads to him by John Donne is 'The Sun Rising'; Donne was a metaphysical poet and the poem is basically cursing the sun for ever rising on such a beautiful moment that he wishes to keep forever as he lies in bed with his lover. If any of you guys love poetry, Donne is definitely one to look up. **

**What Blaine's mother is what my own parents do and is one of the sad things about being a gay teenager; feeling closeted by your parents. I was hesitant to even involve his parents because they may be introduced in season three and they'll be completely different to how I describe, but this is how I picture it. I could imagine his dad being very encouraging and supportive and his mom who loves her 'perfect son' is reluctant to believe he is gay. **

**With their first kiss, I tried to keep as much as the original lines in as possible. I really love the lines 'looking for you forever' and 'you move me' so I wanted to slip them in. Blaine's whole speech in this was basically inspired by the song 'Fucking Perfect' by Pink. It helped be write it so if you want any help, just listen to that song. Thank you for reading. **


	7. Realise

Blaine laid facing Kurt, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against his own. Every time Kurt inhaled, Blaine's ribcage would feel constricted as if it was being tightly embraced. Blaine had never found himself in a relationship before. There were guys he'd kissed, guys he'd been interested in but he'd never been asked to be someone's boyfriend (whose team he was on, anyway) and he'd never asked the question himself. Blaine was still yet to ask, though he felt that it had already been silently and the reply was a just as silent yes. He had lain awake for an hour or so, jolted from sleep with sudden doubt that he'd done the right thing. He'd always had a tendency to question himself, to think twice about things he'd said or had done and then begin to wonder if he should have done things differently. But as Blaine lay there, reciting thousands upon thousands of poetry that, in his opinion, described pure and true love, he felt his heart strings connect to the words like wires, lighting them up so they glowed furiously in his chest.

**My mouth on hers in kisses, and so softly  
To bring together two strange sparks, beget  
Another life from our lives, so should send  
The innermost fire of my own dim soul out-spinning  
And whirling in blossom of flame and being upon me!  
That my completion of manhood should be the beginning  
Another life from mine! For so it looks.  
The seed is purpose, blossom accident.  
The seed is all in all, the blossom lent  
To crown the triumph of this new descent.**

Blaine felt a temporary shudder of fear; fear of the unknown, of what was to happen to the both of them, of what was to become of their relationship but it quickly passed. He was no longer full of panic. It abruptly transitioned into delight and exhilaration. No matter what they were about to fall into, it was bound to be full of every form of emotion and action, and Blaine couldn't wait to experience everything with Kurt. Every little flavour of life with him, Blaine was willing to taste and simply hoped—no—_**prayed**_ that there was plenty of it to come. He'd been waiting forever...it seemed only fair, he was given forever in return.

**000**

McKinley High School loomed overhead, embodying a monster of some sorts that Kurt was being forced to confront. He mentally cursed whoever invented school in the first place as a trillion thoughts fired through his head like comets. He wondered how life would be now if he was attending Dalton. He envisioned walking down the halls freely holding Blaine's hand, students not at all bothered with the genders of the couple, just continuing their rituals. Kurt would not have to flinch at a locker slam, nor would he have to cower behind his stepbrother whose height had come in handy in the last few weeks to hide behind. He would be with Blaine all of the time...he practically melted at the image of the pair of them singing duets, of planting himself down on the other boy's knee as it drew to a end before closing the painful distance between their two mouths.

But Kurt wasn't at Dalton Academy, and it was unlikely he'd ever have the option to go there again. That kind of money was out of the question, and since his dad was expanding the house so he and Finn had their own rooms, they would probably be a little low on cash for a while anyway. Kurt attempted to rid himself of the thought, replacing it with a more positive one, that being that Blaine had extended his absence from school for one more day so he could set Kurt's mind, and probably his own also, at ease by walking him to all of his lessons and spending lunch with him. That would have to do.

The car sighed to a stop once Finn had successfully parked after three failed efforts and the atmosphere in the vehicle was tense. Finn was unsure of what to say since he was feeling kept in the dark, as he didn't know the entire reason Blaine was having an extra day off and, whenever he inquired, he would get the 'just wanted an extra day' response. He didn't believe that to be the whole truth. Blaine was uneasy since it was his second visit to McKinley, and he was not sure whether or not he could keep himself uninvolved in the entire Kurt and Karofsky situation, which he had to vow not to do that very morning. Kurt was just terrified. He didn't want to see Karofsky; he didn't want to see the New Direction members either. He didn't want their sympathetic glances or their prying questions about his wellbeing; although he was aware they meant no harm. It would make him irritable and he didn't want Blaine to see that side of him in case it warded him off. Blaine enveloped his hand with his as if he read this very thought.

"Everything's going to be okay," Blaine murmured, kissing Kurt's temple dotingly. "Nothing's going to happen."

Kurt had to bite his tongue in order to decapitate a retort that had leapt into his throat. He wanted to exclaim that something was going to happen, that Karofsky wasn't going to step back just because Kurt's sort-of-boyfriend-though-they-were-yet-to-discuss-the-matter was present. If anything that would provoke him to say or do something stupid and Kurt didn't want Blaine to get hurt, be it by words or by something else.

Blaine fulfilled part of Kurt's earlier fantasy of attending Dalton; he kissed him tenderly on the lips. It had only been a day, and Kurt knew it would take time for him to get used to being kissed. From being technically single for a majority of his adolescence, to being in a kind-of-relationship with someone was perfect and breathtaking as Blaine was something that would take a while to adjust to. They snapped apart after a loud bang sounded on the window; Kurt turned to see that the perpetrators were three jocks who had crowded around Finn's car once they'd realised it was two guys kissing. They shouted something no one in the car could entirely catch, fist bumped each other and then shook their heads in disgust as they turned and walked away. Kurt's face boiled. That was something else he would have to come to terms with; he couldn't be that openly romantic with Blaine without people acting out against it. He sheepishly looked to Blaine who was, surprisingly, appearing quite calm about the whole thing.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Kurt blinked disbelievingly, feeling further embarrassed that he was the only one alarmingly red.

"Oh it does," Blaine assured him, touching Kurt's knee and running the side of his thumb over it. "I just try to ignore it. It's the best thing to do. It's like a group of children pulling faces just because mommy and daddy kissed." Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I know it's a bit different than that but it's just as immature and silly."

"Yeah well..." Finn cleared his throat awkwardly, undoing his seatbelt. "Maybe you guys should avoid doing those kinda things here. Just in case someone takes it too far."

Kurt would have been annoyed since he usually would have analysed it as a way of his stepbrother closeting him but this time, he kind of agreed. He didn't miss Blaine's stunned expression and cast him an apologetic glance.

"Maybe just for...the day," Kurt said, squeezing the other boy's fingers ruefully. "I don't want to cause you any bother. It's not like Dalton. I..."

Blaine smiled and covered Kurt's mouth with his palm, studying those soul achingly beautiful eyes to ensure every single word he was about to say sunk in. "You don't have to explain that to me, Kurt. I understand, and I really don't blame you. It just means that once school's finished, you have to hold my hand for the rest of the day without letting go for a second."

Kurt felt a pang of guilt immediately, knowing full well he could handle any form of discrimination and harassment that was thrown his way so long as Blaine was there next to him. He went to voice this when Blaine unbuckled his and his own seatbelt before helping himself out of the car. Finn clambered clumsily out next, and Kurt exhaled heavily, shoulders sagging, prior to joining them outside in the crisp fall air. The temporary absence of one another was short-lived but highly felt so when they rejoined they instantly clasped hands.

Kurt and Blaine stared at one another for a moment. Neither of them wanted to let go, reluctant to unwind their fingers, though they were fully aware of the eyes already boring into them, whispers humming around like buzzing bees, their sting powerful and sharp. Kurt resisted the urge to let out a frustrated scream. It was so unfair that other couples, dubbed as ordinary ones, were able to hold one another without the cruel thoughts blaring in people's minds. What right did strangers have to judge, to stare and shout abuse? None, and Kurt couldn't get his head around why they believed so strongly that they did. It bemused and upset him that he wasn't 'allowed' to just hold hands with Blaine. Blaine felt it too, and knew how much it was bothering Kurt, so he hesitantly allowed his hand to slip away down to his side. Kurt's hand felt as if it was naked, undressed in the cool air; he crossed his arms at his chest and started to walk forward with Blaine at his side. It was odd that they weren't touching anymore, despite the fact they had done it so many times before. It felt abnormal now and he would've given anything to just snatch Blaine's hand back into his own and never let it go again. However, it could not be helped. Words flew over their heads anyway, none either of them hadn't heard before but nevertheless, it still hurt.

**000**

Blaine sat in the canteen, rotating his lukewarm cup of coffee round and round listlessly, his hazel eyes glazed over as he mentally counted the minutes as they drew closer to when it would be time for him to go and meet Kurt outside his math class. It had barely been forty minutes, and already he was missing him. Blaine made himself take a final swig from his drink before throwing it away for it no longer fulfilled its purpose to warm him up and keep him refreshed. As he approached the bin, he noticed that the canteen wasn't empty. A broad figure was sitting over in the corner alone, arms folded on the table in front of them, not paying Blaine any heed. Blaine didn't need a few minutes to work out who it was, nor did he need anyone else to tell him so. His jaw clenched.

Dave Karofsky turned his head ajar, his expression not in the least shocked to see the other boy there, as if he had been conscious of it for some time. This made Blaine feel unsettled now knowing that Kurt's bully had practically sat a few feet away from him, probably watching and waiting for him to notice him. Blaine knew that Karofsky wasn't sitting there for no reason; he had come to talk specifically to him and Blaine felt the urge to make a hasty exit and find another place to sit until next lesson started. Kurt had asked of him not to get involved, to only do so when Karofsky came to them. Well, he kind of was coming to them so Blaine inhaled deeply, held up his head and made his way over.

The two of them glowered at one another from opposite sides of the table, allowed the privacy they needed as the lunch ladies had closed up from the breakfast hour to start preparing for dinner. Blaine cocked his eyes down to Karofsky's fist, which seemed purposefully placed on the surface just to get at him. That was the fist that had hit Kurt...Blaine knew because some of the skin was still scraped from the knuckle. He ground his teeth.

"Don't you think one faggot is bad enough?" Karofsky said lowly after scoping the area briefly to ensure they remained undisturbed. "We already have one queer to make up for a whole homo parade at this school. Maybe you know him?"

Blaine had to grip the table edge so not to lunge across the table and grab him. "Don't use those words when you're talking about Kurt. He isn't just his sexuality, you know. He's something much more than that..."

"Yeah, your butt buddy," Karofsky sniggered when Blaine's eyes widened. "I saw you two holding hands outside his house. Nice that you guys have to rub it in everyone's faces, do you think I want to see that kind of thing?"

"Wh—what were you doing outside his house?" Blaine's voice rose in alarm. "You know where he lives?" Karofsky shrugged as if it were no big deal. Blaine's eyes felt damp and he cursed himself silently for being on the brink of tears and playing right into the other guy's hands. "You can't lock yourself in your closet forever, you know," Blaine continued, his voice harsher this time, stabbing his index finger into the table to demonstrate how serious this all was. "You can't convince everyone that Phillip and Martin are girls' names."

"I'm. Not. Gay!" Karofsky hissed, hand bolting out to clutch Blaine's lower arm painfully; Dave was literally shaking with rage, face beetroot red. "I'm not!"

Blaine grimaced but gave no other sign that it hurt, and not once did he look away from those eyes. "I told myself the same too, I told anyone otherwise tried to tell me I was. Those years of pretending to be straight, bringing girls home just to please my parents, buying those kinds of magazines just to make myself feel normal...those were the worst years of my life and I _**know**_ that _**you**_ aren't happy playing pretend."

"I'm not gay," Karofsky repeated, stiffening. "I've had girlfriends!"

"So do many gay guys in denial," Blaine said flatly. "Everyone wants to be normal...do you think Kurt and I were willing to accept our sexuality as soon as we found out? No way. We both played straight for a while, just like you are now." Karofsky tugged him in closer so their faces were mere inches apart; Blaine couldn't resist. "Are you going to kiss me like how you did to Kurt? You're definitely the most heterosexual man I've ever met."

Karofsky gave Blaine a sharp shove, causing him to stagger backwards slightly though maintaining his balance. The push was rough, but half-hearted and they both knew it. Karofsky scraped his chair back, the screech penetrating the air and ripping it like a knife. The two just glared at each other; Dave was the first to tear away, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder as he stormed off, not once looking back.

Blaine stood there; only presently aware of the furious pounding of his heart like his ribcage was being punched. He felt lightheaded, so he allowed himself to flop down into a chair, subconsciously soothing his abused arm that burned an angry red. It could have gone worse. He could've been hit or it could have even blown up into a fight, which would have made things worse for everyone. Blaine unsteadily ran a hand through his hair, puffing out his cheeks as he came to terms with what had just occurred. He jumped when the school bell rang and he swiftly got to his feet and retraced his steps to Kurt's classroom, ensuring his jacket sleeve hid whatever mark would be left behind there, regulating his breathing and forcing a weary smile so it wasn't too obvious.

He made it to the room just in time to meet Kurt, who seemed anxious to see whether Blaine would be there or not. A wave of relief rolled over his sweet features when he saw the Dalton student standing there, arms nonchalantly folded at his chest and a half smile playing harmoniously on his lips. They savoured the short space of time they were reunited as Blaine walked Kurt to his next class, which, to his disappointment, wasn't as long a journey as he would have hoped. It wasn't that much time later when they were parting ways again and it didn't get any easier. Blaine was somewhat unnerved by the concept of being on his own again, but he couldn't leave. He'd promised Kurt he was going to stay the whole day to chaperone him to his lessons and accompany him during lunch. That was what he was going to do.

"You look a little peachy," Kurt noted, partially curious and yet partially trying to stall. "Are you okay?"

Blaine remained collected, casually touching his own face. "Really? Maybe tonight I could do with a bit of your moisturising routine."

Kurt didn't ask anything more and, after checking no one was looking first, pecked Blaine's cheek before entering the classroom. The skin that Kurt's lips had just touched still warm, Blaine couldn't help but grin, feeling his body swell as he replayed the instant in his head. It would keep him sane for the period of time they were apart. He spent the next hour in the library, evading teachers so he wouldn't get questioned despite McKinley seeming less security based than Dalton. By the end of it, Blaine was basically sitting on the edge of his seat, gnawing his bottom lip as he watched the time tick painfully slow.

Kurt wasn't having it any better. He was sitting in his English class, and of course his teacher had to select that freaking play. Granted, it was one of Kurt's personal favourites, but the fact they were looking at it at McKinley and studying it, it just made him feel miserable and he felt a heavy sense of dread. The play was _**Streetcar Named Desire **_written by Tennessee Williams. The students idly grazed their lazy eyes over the words, not really taking anything in as Mr. Matthews had selected pupils reading as Blanche, Stella and Stanley; Kurt felt great trepidation for the upcoming classes. Nevertheless, the bell cried out and he scooped up his belongings, the first out of the door. Of course, there was Blaine and it made his heart soar.

Lunch was a highly anticipated event and the two boys separated themselves from everyone else to have some private time to themselves. Mercedes was understanding and quirked an eyebrow at Kurt when Blaine had his back turned to them. Kurt couldn't restrain himself from beaming like an overly excited child, and felt himself almost skipping alongside Blaine as they walked away. They struggled to find a private spot of their own, away from other people where they could be themselves and didn't have to hide anymore. Kurt had found it difficult enough to conceal his sexuality, but this was so much harder. He felt the need to touch Blaine, to even brush their skin against one another just for a millisecond, simply so he could remember how it felt, just so he could feel the electric shock strike him again. They finally settled on a corner fairly close to the football field, which was deserted save for the odd couple who passed through hand in hand, searching for a secluded place to be...intimate as Kurt rather referred to it as.

Blaine couldn't resist; they were on their own now and they needn't pretend anymore. Kurt had bowed slightly to place down his bag, and as he straightened up, Blaine wound his arms around his abdomen, and rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt drew in a breath; his eyes fluttering as he felt the side of his neck being slowly and sensually kissed. His heart hiccupped and tripped up over itself, beginning to feel jittery; incredible heat crept up to his face and claimed his cheeks as Blaine moulded their lips together. The sounds of their mouths breaking apart and rejoining dominated the still air, Blaine pulling Kurt closer to him so his chest was crushed against Kurt's back. Kurt felt Blaine's searing hands cup his face, towing him gently in. Kurt's lips tasted absolutely delicious, sweet and supple, and Blaine felt as if he was to burst if he couldn't bring the other in nearer. They drew apart only when it was absolutely necessary as the oxygen in their lungs was utterly drained, starving them of air.

Kurt felt himself going slightly cross-eyed as he strived to keep them connected to Blaine's, lips parted as he gulped down the air. Blaine smiled sheepishly, unhurriedly sliding his hands downwards from the other boy's cheeks, reaching the slender bump of a collarbone before stealing away into his jean pockets. He moved past Kurt and took a seat down on the grass, crossing his legs as he took their lunch from Kurt's bag. Kurt only stared helplessly; Blaine noticed and looked up, squinting in the pale sunlight, undeniably endearing.

"Where did that come from?" Kurt said after an elongated pause, rigidly lowering himself down onto the grass and tucking his legs under himself, hands touching his knees. Blaine noted his elegance and was grateful for it; something else he found beautiful.

"I missed you," Blaine replied easily, holding out Kurt's half of the sandwich. "A lot...and its difficult playing straight when you're so..." he needn't finish. They both understood, and Kurt still blushed as he reached out for his piece. Their fingers touched. They each restrained gasps; every touch scorched.

They ate in silence, only moderately enjoying their meal since neither was paying too much attention to the taste. Kurt watched as Blaine ate around the crusts and then discarded them; Kurt made a mental note to cut the crusts off in future merely because the small detail meant he was getting to know Blaine better. After they finished, they shuffled around so they were no longer facing each other but were sitting side by side, hands entwined. Everything about them seemed to fit together, even when Kurt rested his cheek on Blaine's shoulder; it was as if it were a pillow crafted perfectly for his shape. They had been in each other's lives for a few months now, but only now did it seem all too good to be true. Kurt had felt the thrill of their blooming relationship from the first time they had met, but it was all kind of new to Blaine. He had admired the McKinley boy's appearances and charm and had lavished his company, though he had only just the day prior realised those feelings were of a different sort. It seemed that everyone else was aware of it, everyone had expected it but Kurt and Blaine hadn't seen in coming. Kurt was convinced things would never change and they'd remain friends, and Blaine was blind to everything he and Kurt felt.

**000**

Dave Karofsky punched the bathroom wall hard, the pain that had splintered his knuckle barely anything so he repeated the act until he felt his limbs turn weak. He had never felt so furious, so enraged and he felt as if he was to detonate. In fact, he couldn't wait till he did. After chucking Jacob in the dumpster as part of his daily routine, Dave had been walking next to Azimo towards the school building when, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Kurt Hummel. Now Dave _**always**_ noticed Kurt, without fail, though he would never openly admit it not even to himself. But this time, he didn't look hastily away as if it hadn't happened. He continued to stare. Hummel was stepping out of Hudson's car, and he wasn't alone. That guy was there. Dave had stopped in his tracks by now, as had his friend and the two looked on as the two queers held hands.

Dave's chest felt as if it had collapsed inwards, the rubble of his bones heavy and crushing his organs, the colour fleeing from his face leaving it paper white. Even when the two queers let go of one another, Karofsky continued to gape. He felt clammy, his clothes clinging to his skin. He felt physically sick. His heart ached. Azimo, of course, exploded into a massive rant about how disgusting it was that the faggot had brought his 'cocksucker' boyfriend to school to rub it in everyone's faces, but Dave didn't join in. He clumsily trailed behind his friend, perplexed and scared of all the feelings igniting inside of him and it just hurt. He was hurting so bad he couldn't explain or understand it. When Azimo had demanded what was up, Karofsky meekly explained that he had a headache and claimed he was going to go to the nurse. No questions were asked and he was left alone.

He refused to even consider the possibility of jealousy. Jealousy meant that he felt something towards Hummel aside from loathing and repulsion. Dave was straight, and he found Hummel's choice in lifestyle revolting and perverse. He'd never felt this way before about anyone. The homo had changed him. He'd made him a freak, a pervert and mentally sick. Dave had been sitting in the canteen, collecting his thoughts and clearing his unwell brain when he'd realised he wasn't alone. It could have been anyone sitting there, someone else who was cutting class. Dave would have settled for anyone, anyone but him. That boy was sitting there, his back to Dave, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Dave wanted to stand and leave, to run away to put an end to the ice swirling around his stomach's contents. But he didn't. Instead, when the boy had spotted and approached him, Dave decided to act...violently of course.

"Don't you think one faggot is bad enough? We already have one queer to make up for a whole homo parade at this school. Maybe you know him?"

The choice of words had hit the boy hard, confirming his relationship with Hummel. Their voices rose as well as their tempers, and in a matter of seconds Karofsky had his hand clenched around the queer's arm, clamping his thick fingers down to purposefully inflict pain. Then he was being accused, accused of being the same as Hummel. He wasn't gay. He couldn't be. He didn't like show tunes, he didn't dress like a chick, he didn't have a high pitched voice, he didn't care for fashion or hair, he didn't bitch, and he certainly didn't pore over magazines with naked men and getting hard over it. That wasn't him. Dave was tough, he was cool, he was normal. He wasn't sick. He just wasn't like one of those men who dressed in women's clothing. He didn't want to screw Azimo or Hudson or any guy at this school...just Hummel. He was close to dry heaving at the final thought, denying it had even crossed his mind.

Dave had withdrawn to the guys' bathroom since then, and that's where he'd been staying, sitting down in one of the stalls with his head in between his hands, applying pressure onto his temples as if it would squash the gay thoughts out of his skull, every now and then punching the wall to vent his frustration. What would everyone say if he told them this stuff? Would Azimo start hitting and throwing him into the dumpster? Would everyone call him a queer and lump him in with the rest of them? Would he start sleeping around with loads of men? Would his dad disown him? Would Hummel like him? The kiss sprang into his mind as if it had been a dark room and the memory had been a photograph, gradually developing until it came out stark and bright in his head. Kurt's mouth, like two pink rose petals sewn neatly together, temporarily parted and a slither of warm breath, his life, trickled down Karofsky's throat like water to a parched man.

Never had Dave felt like that when he'd kissed a girl...he'd only ever kissed one girl in his life. She'd been a girl at a party who had spontaneously come on to him, throwing herself at him and practically offering herself to him. She'd draped her arms around his neck, whispering dirty nonsensical nothings into his ear but not once had his pants felt tight. Not once did he consider her offer. He'd felt uncomfortable, unwinding her limbs from himself and she then kissed him sloppily on the mouth. It was wet and her spit was cold against his skin. Dave had never pictured his first kiss playing out that way, and had found himself profoundly disappointed. He told his friends he'd had sex with her, earning gratification and praise from each of them, who called him a ladies' man and teased the cheerleaders to watch out for Karofsky, the player. Dave never fully felt he'd earned such a title, and none of the girls seemed at all convinced either, pulling faces whenever he passed them.

Kissing Hummel had been different. Very different, and he had wanted more, he had felt the tightness, and he had wanted to take it further. Dave clapped a hand over his mouth as this realisation struck him like lightning, lighting up the gloomy nooks and crannies of his being, which hid the answers to all of his confusions and questions. He had to fix this...

Dave forced himself to leave the security and felt safety of the cubicle and went on a search for find Hummel and challenge him. He wasn't entirely certain what he was intending to do, whether he planned to act with violence or something entirely different. He frantically walked through the halls of McKinley, swearing loudly as pools of students streamed from their classrooms as the bell sang out in spite of him. People stared at him but he didn't take any notice. Dave barged through the cluster of people, some shouting at him as he trod on their toes or elbowed them painfully in his hurry. He didn't even look back. Azimo had seen him and had started to call for him to join the guys for lunch. Dave didn't answer; he turned his back on his friend and walked away. He believed, for a second, he'd found Hummel when he saw a majority of the Glee club sitting in the canteen; Hudson, the wheelchair dork, the Asian couple, the black girl, the blonde and black haired cheerleaders but no prissy queer.

Karofsky found himself on the brink of giving up, of saving it for another day and just going home or something. This was until it occurred to him to check the field. He doubted the faggot would be there. However, it was his last option and he was half-heartedly willing to give it a try. Stropping across the grass, he found his optimism dampen and he slowed his pace, urging himself to at least check the length of the pitch just in case. And, just as he turned around to head back to the building, he saw them in the corner of his eye. Hummel and his boyfriend were sitting at the end of the stands.

**TBC**

**This chapter took longer to write than usual since I had a lot of deadlines for college work etc and I just lost track of time. I worked on this chapter on-and-off for a while, some days writing loads, other days writing just a sentence but all the same I didn't stop working on it and now it's finished. A bit of a cliff-hanger, but no fear. The next chapter is on the tips of my fingers and I will write it as soon as possible. Thank you for reading, please review and let me know your thoughts. I apologise in advance for any spelling errors, I did not check this over as I am trying to finish off an essay as I write this ~ MaisyShane **


	8. Taking The Fall For Us

**Aria Cantata - Thank you once again for a lovely review. The previous chapter was partially based on my first ever experience on having an open relationship at college since I'd never dated anyone who attended my school so that first time I held my girlfriend's hand, we became the instant gossip; we became the one people took pictures of whenever we kissed. In the end, it became too much and we stopped doing all of that and basically closeted our relationship, which inevitably lead to our breakup. Kurt fights to be open like I did in my final year of high (secondary) school but being in a relationship at his generally homophobic one is on an entirely new level and I wanted to explore how homosexual couples feel the need to closet themselves to make everyone else feel comfortable. I'm much more open now, but I do respect other people (PDA). I thought it'd be interesting to look at and for Kurt to experience. **

**NekoKriszty – Thank you for the reviews, I just wanted to address a few of your points. On Dave's father, I imagined it would be very shocking for a parent to realise and come to terms with the fact that their child is a bully. It causes the parent to blame themselves and question how they raised their son, so I envisioned Paul Karofsky to act a little coldly to Dave simply because he's wondering what he's done wrong etc. He hasn't abandoned his son, he loves Dave very much, he just can't get his head around the fact his son bullies people and singles others out for things such as sexuality. I was bullied throughout my final year of high school and I went through some bullying in my first year of college; I'm in my second year now and it isn't that bad anymore though I do still get some stick for being gay. I am flattered that you're enjoying my story.**

**000**

The Glee Club members sat in the choir room, conversing light-heartedly as they awaited Mr. Schue to join them. Santana was casting sideways glances over towards Brittany and Artie, who were rubbing noses with one another. Puck was scraping his heated gaze over every female in the room. Sam and Mike Chang were pondering aloud how they got two of the hottest girls in school, despite their girlfriends sitting a chair or so away from them, talking animatedly with Mercedes, who appeared somewhat distracted as she kept checking over her shoulder to look at the door. Rachel was talking at Finn about how unfair and unjust it was that they hadn't gotten a duet though he wasn't particularly interested; he half-listened idly as he waited anxiously for Kurt to turn up.

"Finn? Are you even listening to me?" Rachel sounded exasperated, her dark eyes practically ablaze.

"Huh?" Finn replied hazily. When he noted her expression and that some of the Glee members were turning a keen ear to listen in, he gave her his full attention, his voice clearer. "It's not that, Rach, sorry. I'm just worried about Kurt."

It was at that moment when all discussion dimmed and everyone, save Mercedes and Finn, only just began to notice that they lacked a usually vibrant and talkative member. They all began to feel just as edgy and tense as Finn and Mercedes did, some of them replaying Kurt's panic attack in their minds and feeling extremely uncomfortable, negative notions passing like clouds over their consciousness. A majority of the guys attempted to shrug it off for the intensity was too much for them to handle seriously.

"It's probably nothing," Artie reassured Brittany, who had shifted herself so she was no longer facing him, a sure sign she was thinking something over.

"Artie's right," Puck agreed, shrugging nonchalantly. "Kurt probably just...just..." he wanted to say something along the lines of 'fashion disaster' or 'saw someone else wearing the same outfit...namely a girl' but he couldn't. Though he still wasn't entirely comfortable with the boy's blatant flamboyancy, he recently avoided insulting or stereotyping him since it made him feel overwhelmingly guilty. He didn't finish or correct himself, and did not speak again as if he hadn't said a thing.

"Maybe we should go looking for him?" Tina suggested, tying her fingers around Mike's to ensure that he was in with her on the decision.

Mr. Schue entered the room, picking up the odd vibe the instant his foot crossed over the threshold. He frowned, taking in the solemn faces. He analysed it pretty fast, detecting Kurt's absence and connected it with Karofsky. Talk of songs and Sectionals forgotten, Mr. Schue opened his mouth to tell the guys to go search the area whilst the girls alerted another member of staff, when the boy in question walked in. But the restlessness didn't leave New Directions.

Kurt Hummel didn't appear outwardly hurt or damaged in any way, other than his clothes that seemed to have taken the brunt of whatever had happened, his knees smeared with wet mud, a little tear in the pants leg. Faded dirt patterned his palms, and his cheeks were quite red, as well as his eyes that looked as if he had been crying. Even though he held his head up, his body was noticeably trembling as he came to a stop, feigning confusion as he scanned the room of concerned faces.

"Who died?" Kurt asked, blinking in bemusement.

"Kurt, do you want to see me outside for a minute?" Mr. Schue said lowly and softly, taking a few steps towards him. "Just Kurt." He added when Finn clumsily rose from his chair at such speed that his chair screeched horribly.

Kurt hesitated, not moving at first until Mr. Schue touched his shoulder, encouraging him to do as requested. He walked out into the hall, the cool air feeling as if it was a ghost running at him causing him to shiver even more than he already was. His heart was still throbbing behind his ribcage.

Mr. Schue folded his arms, peering worriedly up at the student's face that was being bowed as if to avoid looking at him.

"Kurt, are you going to tell me the truth straight away or do I have to pry?" Will Schuster said, trying hard to maintain a calm exterior, taking the outside role. If he got too personal with this situation, it would probably get out of hand. Being a teacher, he couldn't be bias, he couldn't take sides. He had to keep an open mind no matter how progressively angry he was becoming at the sight of Kurt's dishevelled appearance.

Kurt shrugged, subconsciously rubbing his hands together as if to rid them of any evidence. "Nothing..."

"Please. I just want to help."

Kurt shut his eyes for a moment. The incident played out in his head. Karofsky had started taking pictures of them cuddling on his phone. He called them ladies. He called them faggots, fairies, and queers. Blaine was growing agitated. Kurt tried to lead him away. Karofsky threatened Kurt. He said that Blaine couldn't always be there to protect him. It had struck a chord with both Kurt and Blaine. Blaine challenged Karofsky, warning him to back off. They started shoving one another. They swore. They called each other everything under the sun. Blaine lost his balance and fell to the floor. Karofsky stood over him. Kurt acted. He stepped up and slapped Karofsky hard around the face. Karofsky grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Don't you dare touch me again," Karofsky had said, swinging Kurt around and letting go so he too landed on the floor painfully on his side.

Karofsky had stormed off leaving them both literally in the dirt. Blaine had helped Kurt to his feet. It wasn't until Blaine had wiped his cheeks, had he realised he was crying. Kurt buried his face in Blaine's chest as he permitted the tears to freefall down his face. Blaine held him close, whispering promises to keep him safe. He walked Kurt to the choir room and whispered that he was going to be waiting outside of it when the bell rang.

Kurt peeled his eyes open, the light sudden and piercing but he paid it no heed. He had to stay strong. He and Blaine had to stay strong.

_**You can't always be there to protect him. Then I can have it out with my fair lady whenever and however I feel like!**_

Kurt steadied his features as he calmly replied. "I'm alright. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to practice my solo." Through his controlled, collected facade, Mr. Schue saw his chin quiver.

**000**

Rehearsal seemed to drag, especially since every member of New Directions was anticipating answers. They all hated being left in the dark, and they all wanted to know what had happened to Kurt. Whether it was out of personal interest or desire for gossip or just to put their minds at rest, they were each curious and were gathering the courage to just ask. Mr. Schue acted as if nothing had occurred but everyone knew otherwise as he seemed paler than usual and stumbled on his words. He didn't seem that enthusiastic, and he didn't feel it either. He knew Kurt was lying, but wondered what his duties as a teacher required him to do. Did he continue to pry or did he leave it and take the student at his word? Mr. Schue made a mental note to talk about it with Emma later, and possibly Sue provided she could keep her temper under control.

Kurt just wanted to leave. He didn't like being the centre of attention...well, that was kind of false. He _**loved **_being the centre of attention, just when it was on his terms, when it wasn't something as emotional as this. When he didn't feel on the brink of tears, fighting them back just to avoid the highly uncomfortable moment when everyone gathered around him, making him feel even more claustrophobic and crowded. Even though he was sitting a little way away from the others, he felt like they were closing in on him and Kurt had to repeat the word _**courage **_in his head to prevent himself from bursting into a fit of tears and hysterics. He wasn't the kind to openly cry, to openly spout out his issues and problems. He always had to deal with them on his own because he didn't know how or want to let people in. When his mom died, he felt as though he couldn't confide his heartache to his father without hurting him in the process. His dad was in so much pain, and Kurt knew he shouldn't make it worse by adding to the problems. So every time someone called him a name or every time he felt the grief punch him square in the chest, he sewed his lips tightly shut. He supposed it was something he'd never really grown out of, even when his dad had gradually healed and had opened up to his child being gay. Kurt had to go everything alone. It was bad enough Blaine was now involved. He didn't want anyone else brought into his mess.

Finn stuck to his side when the session had drawn to a close, standing awkwardly at his side as if he was awaiting the information and the details. Kurt didn't say a word, even when his stepbrother ghosted his every move, standing excessively close as if the words were to be whispered to him, or that Kurt was going to perform sign language or something. Kurt just got to his feet as the bell rang and made his way to the door, ignoring the stares and whispers flitting around him, batting them away like irritating moths attracted to the light of some gossip. He retained a whimper as he turned the corner to face Blaine, who looked just as bad as he did.

Blaine's clothes were absolutely drenched with mud that had now dried crustily to his clothing, smeared across his face, neck, arms and hands like cuts. An actual graze marked the underneath of his chin, a dark deep red against his skin. Kurt felt a stabbing pain in his abdomen when he saw it, and his chin wobbled. Kurt bent his head slightly to meet Blaine's mouth briefly with his own, cupping his face with his hands only to break hastily away when Finn joined them. Finn swept his eyes over Blaine's appearance.

"Dude, you're a mess!" Finn exclaimed, not in the least tactful.

Whilst Kurt reacted to that statement with a narrowed gaze, Blaine merely laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah I am. Kurt and I were just messing around on the pitch and we kinda...got a bit dirty." Finn's eyes bulged so Blaine briskly retraced his steps. "Not in that sense. Just...yeah..." he looked away in discomfort, biting his bottom lip to silence himself.

Kurt didn't need to read minds in order to see what thoughts had been bred from that sentence in Finn's mind. Of course it had been taken in a—sexual manner. Kurt felt his face heat up and he put a hand to temple, rubbing it as if to repress a mental explosion. The journey to the car was extremely awkward. Kurt and Blaine weren't speaking, though they had a lot of things to talk about however could not due to the presence of a certain stepbrother. Finn wasn't talking to anyone, walking a little way ahead to mask his discomfort. He wasn't sure if he was wrong for feeling uncomfortable around the couple now he'd pictured them in a sexual situation. It had seemed pretty innocent before then, and he hadn't minded them cuddling but thinking of them doing anymore made his gut squirm. Finn felt awful for the way he was feeling and told himself over and over that it would take time for him to be entirely okay with the fact that Kurt would have or maybe already had a sex life.

The stares followed them all the way down the hallways and, even though Kurt at times loved all eyes on him, he just wanted to get away. He wanted the security of the walls of his home...even the car would do. Then he and Blaine could talk properly. They both desperately wanted to. They kept exchanging glimpses, ones that could not speak everything that needed to be said. Blaine wanted to discuss the Karofsky incident the most, whilst Kurt wanted to talk about being open and their relationship, if they were truly together or if they were going to wait for their first date or what. Kurt relaxed slightly as they neared the parking lot, subconsciously inching closer to Blaine until the backs of their hands were brushing with every step they took. Neither of them mentioned it; in fact, they relished the touch. It was comforting to the pair of them.

They all halted in their tracks at the sight of Finn's car. The windscreen had been shattered, the glass splintered and lined as if it were wrinkled, and on the hood of the vehicle were the sprayed on words 'FAGS GO TO HELL'. Other students had noticed the defacing but didn't seem to care; in fact some of them seemed to find it pretty amusing, taking pictures on their phones, slowing their pace to get a better look. Finn's face was alarmingly red and he ran both hands through his hair until they cradled the back of his head, staying still there as he puffed out his cheeks, lost for words. Kurt didn't care anymore and clutched Blaine's hand tightly, bringing his other to his mouth. Blaine swallowed hard and his eyes shone in the light like they were made of glass.

It seemed everyone who was watching was waiting for Finn to burst into various and vibrant curses and exclamations...but he remained silent. Not a word, offensive or otherwise, left him and he just gawped, eyes leaping to the red sprayed words. What the words said hit Finn the hardest. Not even the fact they were on his car made his blood boil that hot. It was that someone had done it to hurt Kurt; that someone had lashed out at his stepbrother for no reason other than coming to school with his boyfriend. Finn thought about Rachel. How would he feel if people said he and her were going to hell simply for loving one another? He couldn't picture it, even though they had faced hostility from others in the past. Never like this though. And Finn didn't get it. He couldn't comprehend it. He knew who had done it, and he swore to himself that he wouldn't let Karofsky and Azimio get away with it. Finn turned to Kurt and Blaine eventually.

"You two go on ahead, I'm going to tell Principal Figgins," Finn said hoarsely, giving a faint half smile.

**000**

Kurt's felt as if a great weight sat upon him, making it difficult to make his way around the kitchen as he half-heartedly prepared dinner, snatching glimpses at the clock. Every minute that passed blazed in his mind, reminding him loudly that Finn had still not returned. Blaine was trying to help cook but admitted he had no cooking experience at all so could only hand the other boy things he needed like ingredients and cutlery. He felt utterly useless, not only due to his incompetence when it came to putting the oven on but with his ability to help his kind-of-boyfriend. His attempts to make Kurt smile or feel any better were pathetic, and did very little good. Blaine could only hope that nothing had happened to Finn, and even that wasn't good enough.

Kurt groaned with annoyance, bringing his hands to his face. "Where is he?" he muttered, partially to himself.

Blaine, keeping his tone soft and empathetic, touched Kurt's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, it's only been an hour. Maybe the police had to be called in or something, he probably just had to answer some questions about the damage done to his car."

"Well, what if he's done something completely idiotic?" Kurt snapped, striding swiftly across the kitchen floor to the drawers to clumsily collect the knives and forks. He was fumbling so much a majority of them clattered down onto the floor causing him to drop the remaining ones he'd kept hold of. Kurt ground his teeth, rolling his eyes upwards to glare at the ceiling to gather his senses.

Blaine had never seen Kurt so worked up; it was painfully revealing and he felt shameful for witnessing it. All he could do was approach him, crouch down and begin collecting the spilled eating utensils. Kurt joined him after a moment or so, his cheeks burning a deep red and he refused to look Blaine in the eye.

"Sorry...I'm sorry, Blaine..." Kurt blurted out quietly, sniffing. "I'm just..."

"Shh," Blaine reached out, frowning with sympathy as he touched Kurt's chin, tilting it back so their eyes greeted. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, okay?"

"I do..." Kurt rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm, sniffing several times before speaking again. "It's my fault t-they did that to Finn's car. I just make his life ten times harder...like my dad's..."

"Hey, hey, that's not true," Blaine interjected, setting down the knives and forks in his hands and using it to hold the other's shoulder. "Don't think like that. It's not your fault people are ignorant and stupid. Finn knows that, your dad knows that.._.__**you**_ know that, Kurt. Those people have _**no**_ right to make you feel this way..."

"I know...it'd just...it'd just be easier if I was straight..."

"I used to hate myself for being gay," Blaine murmured, feeling a chill shudder up his spine as he mentally relived that dark part of his life. "I just thought that if I tried hard enough it'd stop. If I kept telling myself that I didn't want it, that it'd all be okay. But you know what? I'm thankful that I'm gay now...because if I wasn't, I wouldn't be with you. I wouldn't have had the chance to go to Dalton and make all the friends I have now. If I had stayed at my old school...I probably wouldn't have met you that day you snuck in. I'd probably be miserable...your sexuality, is just part of you...and I want to be the one to make you see that being who you are, doesn't only attract bad things. Good things come out of it too, like irreplaceable love. Look forward to the good, Kurt; because I'm telling you there is so much to look forward to."

Kurt chewed his bottom lip and smiled weakly, folding himself up in Blaine's arms. Blaine held Kurt close to him, resting his chin atop his head, rocking him a little back and forth. They both flinched when the sound of the front door closing confiscated the air. Kurt bolted up and out of the room, leaving Blaine sitting in the middle of the kitchen, hastily gathering up the mess on the floor before following Kurt.

Finn stood awkwardly in front of the door, and immediately Blaine noticed his bleeding lip and a dark shadow looming under his left eyebrow, a sure sign a bruise was forming. Kurt was already frantically speaking, his voice getting higher as he lost his temper.

"What happened? Did you challenge Karofsky?" when he received no answer, he gave his stepbrother a feeble shove. "Answer me Finn!"

"Yes! Fine okay I talked to Karofsky and asked him straight up if he was the one that totalled my car, happy now?" Finn exclaimed, trying to nudge past to withdraw upstairs.

"It wasn't just a talk though was it?" Kurt blocked him. "I thought you weren't going to get involved!"

"Kurt, you told me there was nothing to get involved in!" Finn retorted. "You promised you were okay! You lied to me; you lied to Burt, to my mom. Why do you have to do everything on your own? I'm your brother now, and I swore that I'd have your back no matter what went down, I promised I wouldn't let anyone put a hand on you. I bet the ice thing wasn't even true, was it?" when Kurt said nothing, Finn threw his hands up in frustration and successfully moved past him up the stairs.

Kurt stood still for a while, dropping his arms down to his sides with defeat. Things were getting out of hand now. Finn had gotten into a fight, had gotten hurt, all for him. He never wanted this to happen. He didn't want anyone else getting hurt... Karofsky wasn't going to just let everything go. He was set on being straight, on being normal just for a while longer. He was pissed at anyone who was around Kurt. He didn't like that Kurt had a love interest; jealousy. He didn't like that Finn was standing up for him; ignorance. How long was it going to be until Karofsky was extending his hatred onto more people? How long until he put a hole in Mercedes' car window; until he took it out on the rest of New Directions? How long until he got too personal? Moved onto Burt and Carole? Kurt faced Blaine; his heart melted. He just wanted to sob; he wanted to be comforted and told everything was going to be okay. It just wasn't though, was it? Things were just going to get worse as long as Blaine was involved. It was blatantly making Karofsky jealous, and it didn't help that he was denying the possibility of it being envy because that would mean he liked Kurt. He wasn't going to admit it any time soon. Maybe if Kurt took some of Finn's old advice; to lie low for a while, to blend in. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to do that for a bit, to avert the attention from himself. If he got Karofsky to come out to himself, things would get easier for everyone. Kurt wanted to say this to Blaine, but he found his words dissolving on the tip of his tongue when he saw how Blaine was watching him closely, predicting what was to come next. Blaine spoke first.

"You're not pushing me away, Kurt," he said firmly. "You can't make everything okay by isolating yourself. You _**have **_to tell someone about this. An adult this time, not Finn, not me. We can't do anything, we have no authority. The teachers already know Karofsky threatened you, and if you told them what he's done today they will get rid of him. Like that." He snapped his fingers, his hazel eyes digging deep into Kurt's, searching for something, anything to see that his words were sinking in. "And you're not alone this time. You have mine and Finn's words against his. We both have the marks to prove it. So please, before you start a self-sacrificial monologue in an effort to make me go, just know it won't do any good. I'm way too involved now, Kurt. I cannot leave without knowing things are going to be okay. I can't go back to Dalton knowing he's there, waiting for a moment to hurt you."

Kurt swallowed hard, defying the fact that Blaine had in fact moved him to the brink of accepting his help. If he said okay, if he did tell, wouldn't things get worse? Wouldn't Karofsky be waiting for him outside of those doors? And not only was he threatening his life now, he was threatening Blaine's. If Karofsky was exposed, he wouldn't just walk away and accept what had happened. He would stay; he would wait for the perfect moment to get his own back. He was the kind of person who didn't leave something behind until it was at least even.

_**If you do tell anyone, not only will I get you, but I'll also get your boyfriend too. Yeah, I saw you two holding hands at your house yesterday.**_

He knew where Kurt lived. And it wouldn't be that difficult to find out where Blaine lived either. All it took was a night when Kurt would be alone. His dad and Carole out for a dinner and Finn over Rachel's for one reason or another. Then Kurt would be completely and utterly vulnerable. It didn't take a lot to give Karofsky advantage and leverage over him. And then what? Kurt shuddered at the mere notion of being defenceless against the guy who had punched his stepbrother who had always seemed so strong, who had pushed Blaine down to the ground without even trying. It was as if it was nothing. Blaine reached out as this thought overcame him, brushing his fingertips over the bruise upon his cheek. Kurt took Blaine's hand, folding the fingers back into the palm and drew it away, tears gulping up his eyes.

"I can't," Kurt murmured, slipping his fingers out of Blaine's. He walked past him and into the kitchen, discarding the meal that had now turned cold into the bin. He didn't even care that his efforts had gone to waste; he just wanted to make this easier on himself. As long as he didn't look at Blaine, see the hurt he was inflicting, this would be okay...he could manage.

"So that's it? You can't or you won't, Kurt?" Blaine's voice cracked, as did Kurt's heart. "That's the real question here, isn't it? Don't be stupid! You do realise that Karofsky can really hurt you given the opportunity? You can't keep playing the lone hero. It doesn't work like that. Either you get help, or you lose and to be honest, I'm not willing to back off. You're not going through this alone!"

"It has nothing to do with you, Blaine," Kurt said flatly, stripping his tone of all emotion despite it sitting raw in his throat.

Blaine wasn't dumb; he knew what Kurt was doing. Nonetheless, it hurt...it _**really **_fucking hurt. He was being pushed away and despite his greatest efforts to cling on, it was working. He was finding himself closer to leaving with every word that left Kurt's mouth and it killed him that he could be so easily driven away. Blaine stiffly approached Kurt, touching the boy's arm.

"Don't do this..." Blaine breathed, tears fleeing down his face slowly. "We're together, aren't we? I'm supposed to look after you...no...I _**want **_to look after you."

Kurt turned, trying with all his might to keep his face bare, to keep all feelings at bay so Blaine didn't see the cracks forming. He was falling apart, and he knew it. He was being ridiculous, but Blaine's life was also at risk. It wasn't just him anymore under threat. It was the people he cared for the most. Kurt felt the fleeting constriction in his chest as it crossed his mind that Blaine may never forgive him for this. It was highly possible, and it shredded him up inside.

"You don't know how this feels, Blaine!" Kurt decided to act angry, shrugging off Blaine's touch, swinging around to face him; the pain was so fresh in Blaine's eyes, they almost looked wounded. "Easy for you to say, you get to go back to Dalton while I'm stuck here. You do realise how serious this is, right?"

"_**I **_don't know how it feels?" Blaine stomach felt the colour draining from his cheeks, leaving the skin cool as if the muscle and bone beneath it had been turned to ice and had started to melt. "You have no idea what I've been through, Kurt! If anything it's _**you **_who's not taking it seriously! It's your _**life**_, Kurt and you're treating it like it's nothing. This isn't like you at all. There has to be something else, otherwise everything I've thought about you is wrong!"

"You don't even know me, Blaine!" Kurt worked through the hurt that was now pounding his heart into a fine power, leaving him feeling empty and broken. Regardless, it continued to beat loudly and nearly swelled over each of his words as if it were rising up into his mouth. "We've known each other a few months. Like you said, you don't even know my birthday. You just pitied me. That's all it ever was."

"Why are you saying this? This isn't you, Kurt. You're hiding something from me. You want me to leave."

"You got the last part right."

They both stared at each other, hard. It was like Kurt could see the bridge between them being devoured by a hungry fire. Times they'd shared, each kiss, each laugh, each smile, each word, each touch...everything was turning to ash and discarded by a furious wind so when they searched for a reason to stay, a reason to keep trying, there was no evidence. There was nothing for Blaine to look for, and each of those moments was gone in his mind. They'd never even occurred because he was now glowering at an entirely new person. The Kurt he'd met on the stairs was gone...in a matter of seconds...

"Why won't you let me help you?" Blaine whispered, trying with all his might to keep himself there rather than out of the door back home. "That's all I'm trying to do, Kurt. Why do you want to push me away so badly?"

Kurt only had to think of what Karofsky had said and done to have the power to say what he did next. "You just don't get it, Blaine. You can't put yourself in my shoes for a single minute, and I'm tired of you pressuring and nagging me to do what you want me to do. You saw what happened to Finn's car. Soon it won't be a car window that will be smashed. It'll be either one of our faces, and you know what provoked it? You being there. If you hadn't have been at McKinley...it wouldn't have happened. Finn wouldn't have gotten hurt..."

"Wait, now you're blaming me for what someone else did? You're blaming me for what Karofsky's doing? I'm just trying to help!"

"Well, maybe you should send your charity and pity elsewhere," Kurt rejoined, looking Blaine up and down as if in disgust and turned away. That would probably be the last time he'd look at Blaine for a while...and he had to try with all his might not to chance a second look. "Just leave me alone."

Silence fell between them for what felt like an eternity, consuming and overwhelming the pair of them. Kurt forced himself to focus outside the dark window, gripping the counter tightly until his knuckles were white and the skin pinched, welling up again as he felt the eyes boring into his back. After the longest few minutes of both of their lives, Blaine left, the sounds of his footsteps stabbing Kurt repetitively in the chest, each tap of a shoe connecting to the floor plunging right into his soul. When the front door slammed shut, Kurt clapped a hand over his mouth to suppress a heart-wrenching sob that shot up his throat. His knees were buckling so badly he crumpled down onto the cool kitchen floor tiles, covering his face as he now openly cried into his palms.

Finn listened at the top of the stairs, wondering how it had gotten from all cuddles and smiles to this so quickly, and that was exactly what Blaine was also thinking of as he drove home, rubbing his sore eyes dry with his sleeve. His car smelled like Kurt...as did his clothes...it pierced him fiercely.

**TBC**

**No fear Blaine will return in a few chapters! In fact he's to have an entire chapter to himself based around his coming out story. Not sure whether to write it in first person perspective or to continue in third person. If you have any idea of which I should do, let me know in the reviews. Speaking of reviews, I can't believe I've gotten 60 for this story! It makes me so happy people are interested in my writing. **

**This chapter was difficult to write, hence why it took a while for it to be published. I really struggled with how things should happen with Blaine and Kurt, since that was the intention from the start to have them part ways for a while. In the end, knowing Kurt's self-sacrificial nature, this was the best way I could think of for things to get started. If you do have any questions ask in the reviews and I will answer them in a chapter. **

**I apologise once again for any spelling errors as I've written the last few paragraphs hurriedly as I am supposed to be revising for my exams. The next chapter should be up in the next few days. Thank you for reading ~ MaisyShane. **

**Ps. If you guys listen to music as you read like I do to get into the feel of it, I listened to the song 'My Love' by Sia whilst writing this chapter and it really moved me and encouraged me to write. It helped me write about Blaine and how it hurt him when Kurt was telling him to go. Thank you. **


	9. On My Own

**I just want to sincerely apologise for the lack of updates! My computer had a virus and, of course, exploded on me and I haven't had much access to the internet let alone time to write. My original document for this chapter has been lost, and I've had to rewrite it much to my annoyance but the show must go on. I hope you enjoy. **

Blaine felt reckless, and it stunned him. He hadn't felt that way in so long, and it wracked his entire body like a set of hands shaking him violently as if trying to get him to come to his senses. Blaine was hurting, and he was hurting badly. Kurt had told him to go, practically begged him to, and even though Blaine knew the words exchanged weren't entirely true, he'd been driven away so easily. His feelings for Kurt were honest, the first time he'd ever truly felt that way for another person and what did he do? He ran. He ran as far away from that person as possible, and now didn't exactly know where he was anymore as he pulled up.

Blaine rested his forehead against the wheel of his car, eyes sealed shut. The tears that had once streaked down his cheeks with great speed, were gone leaving only a faint damp trail that was swiftly drying up. His heart was throbbing in his chest, sore as an open wound. He covered his eyes with his hands, his chin trembling uncontrollably. Blaine dropped his hands after a moment and looked out the window to see nothing but the blackness of the night.

_**You don't know how this feels, Blaine!**_

Kurt was wrong; Blaine knew precisely how it felt. Blaine wanted to tell him that, to take his hands and tell him everything that had happened to him. But he couldn't. He was shook up from the way Kurt was speaking to him; such vehemence, such anger. It rattled Kurt's voice and twisted it so it no longer sounded like him at all; he sounded like an entirely different person.

Not the sweet, nervous boy who had spoken to him on the stairs at Dalton when they'd first met. Not the boy who'd cried before him just an hour or less of meeting him, pouring out his heart's delicate contents onto the table between them. Not the boy who had slept so peacefully beside him, eyelids flickering every now and then and the corners of his rose petal lips tilting upwards into a small smile. Not the boy, who Blaine had kissed as he'd been laying in bed after a panic attack, the sparks literally springing from their brushing lips.

The Kurt, who had told him to go, told him he didn't understand, that it was his fault, was someone Blaine didn't know. And maybe someone Blaine didn't want to know...

**000**

"Kurt?"

Finn looked away as if in shame, like he was attempting to leave Kurt some shreds of dignity by not addressing the tears dripping down his cheeks as he sat on his bed. Finn gingerly approached him, holding out the house phone. Kurt stared for a few moments; a fleeting shower of hope rained down on him, and even though it was light it drenched him. He took the phone and pressed it to his chest, waiting until Finn had returned upstairs, lifting it to his ear only when the door had clicked. Kurt shut his eyes when the voice he heard wasn't the voice he'd been hoping for.

"Hey buddy," Burt Hummel greeted enthusiastically. "Sorry for taking so long to check up on you. The reception is awful here. How you been? No trouble I hope?" There was an edge to his tone almost as if he was prepared to jump onto the next flight home if anything bad had occurred.

Kurt couldn't speak, letters tumbling from the tip of his tongue into the abyss of silence. He swallowed; the roof of his mouth was incredibly dry. Eventually he spoke, his eyes remaining closed.

"Hey Dad," he said hoarsely. "I-I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, kiddo," Burt gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Seriously though...has anything happened with that Karofsky kid?"

Everything had happened. Kurt wanted to discard all of the emotions weighing in his heart onto the floor for his father to see, like the gems in a secret treasure chest, each different but as sharp as the last. His dad would examine each and every one and then take them away, take away all the pain, all the heartache. But it wasn't going to work like that. Burt would come home, lose his temper, Karofsky would be reported...he would be absolutely furious. Then Kurt would've pushed Blaine away for nothing.

"No, Dad," Kurt replied, his voice sounding tiny, half smiling even though no one was there to see it. "I haven't really seen him. So..." he forced a burst of energy into his pitch. "Go and enjoy your honeymoon. Don't forget to put on sunscreen and _**please **_put the plaid away for at least a few days."

"Well I'm wearing plaid right now. Can I start tomorrow on that, kid?"

"No. Change," Kurt's lips tilted upwards genuinely. "I put a lot of your newest and nicest clothes on the top of your suitcase...though I guess you've screwed them all up and thrown them anywhere and everywhere."

"Have you got secret cameras in the hotel room?"

"Nope, I've just known you all my life. I love you, Dad. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You stole my line but right back at you." He exhaled. "Kurt, be safe. I love you most, remember that. Say hey to Finn for me; let him know his mom's missing him like crazy!"

"Will do, Dad," Kurt knew the call was drawing to a close, and he felt the fear grip him as he realised this was probably his final chance to say something. "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

He couldn't do it; his shoulders sagged. "Give Carole my love, won't you? And tell her to wear those jeans I bought her. The pair that goes..."

"Just below the bellybutton," Burt Hummel finished, laughing. "I know, Kurt, I remember. They're my favourite. Okay, I'll call you on Friday evening before we board the flight back. Take care, kiddo. Love you."

The line went dead, yet Kurt still held it to his ear as if his dad would suddenly come back and talk to him for a little while longer. A few minutes passed—and nothing. Kurt hung up and pressed the phone to his lips, opening his eyes for the first time since answering the call and gazed off into space, sighing as he rose to his feet.

Finn seemed surprised as Kurt emerged at the top of the stairs, pale and red-eyed but other than that looking the way he usually did. The two watched each other closely momentarily.

"Dad says hi," Kurt reported gently, fiddling with the phone in his hands. "And your mom misses you...like crazy."

Finn turned bright head and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, though he was smiling. "Oh...um...awesome?"

Kurt nodded in agreement, returning the telephone back to its stand. He froze, turning his head ajar to glance at stepbrother. It was his turn to blush.

"Um—do you have any clothes I can borrow?" he asked, straightening up and facing Finn, hands clasped. The palms were clammy and sticky.

Finn blinked dumbly as if someone had clapped their hands loudly together in front of him while he was sleeping, startling him awake. "Uh, yeah man sure. But I thought you said I had the fashion sense of a puberse boy..."

"Pubescent," Kurt corrected and then nodded again. "I just...I'm going to lie low for a bit. Try not to stick out too much."

"I thought you were all about being out and proud and stuff?" Finn frowned, confused.

"Yeah well it isn't doing anyone any good right now, is it?" Kurt elaborated, mind springing to Blaine immediately. "I-I don't want to get into a big debate over it, Finn," he added as Finn opened his mouth to protest. "I just-I just don't want anyone else getting involved, alright? Put some cream on your eye..." he went to leave and then stopped to add, "and for gosh sake put some ice on that lip or it'll explode." Finn's eyes bulged. "Not really, just...yeah. I'm going to pick up an outfit for tomorrow." And Kurt was gone.

**000**

Kurt's appearance gained a few unwanted stares the following day, and he ducked his head to avoid meeting their gazes. Even though it wasn't that bad, and he'd selected a pair of 'normal' blue jeans and a pale green hooded sweatshirt with a pair of converse, he felt as if he was walking around in his boxers. The clothes were overly baggy, as if they were excess skin and Kurt had lost a ton of weight, though the remains of his past self sagged and hung over him. He'd had to apply two belts to the jeans to prevent them from heading down south past his knee. It left him feeling vulnerable—well, more vulnerable than usual and he simply hugged himself as if to keep everyone else at bay as he walked the corridors of McKinley, Finn sticking to him like a shadow...a clumsy shadow that kept knocking into people and treading on Kurt's heel.

"Ow, Finn!" Kurt exclaimed when Finn's feet, approximately three or even four sizes bigger than his own, caught him on the back of the shoe for the umpteenth time and caused him to stumble.

"Sorry, sorry!" Finn said, flushing.

"Why don't you just walk next to me?"

Finn did so and it was much better, though now Kurt could see his stepbrother's black eye and split lip much better now. His eye looked much better than it had the night previous and didn't even look that bad out in the daylight, just as if it were the ghost of some dark eye shadow or simply the way the light fell on him. His lip was scabbed over now and he kept nibbling it, causing it to bleed. Kurt felt like a doting mother, dabbing it with tissue and warning Finn not to bite it again only to be repeating the action not long after. Other than that, it wasn't that noticeable and no one really asked anything. Well until Rachel approached them.

"Finn Hudson what is that on your mouth? And your eye!" doting mother role was taken over immediately as she tentatively touched his face and turned left, right, up and down to get a better angle of it. "Have you been fighting?" she demanded, her hands dropping to hold her hips that she cocked to her right, an attitude mannerism she most likely copied from Mercedes.

"Y-n-y-n-yeah," Finn stumbled, looking around awkwardly to ensure no one was listening in. "Karofsky and Azimio and those guys."

Rachel groaned. "Finn! Seriously? You can't just stoop to their level because they call you names or whatever."

"It wasn't like that, okay!"

"Then what was it like, Finn, huh?" Rachel now folded her arms, nodding her head frantically in a patronizing way.

When Finn faltered, casting Kurt a look that asked if it would be okay if he told her, Kurt stepped in. "They'd done something to Finn's car," he explained. Rachel turned on him though she swept her eyes over his outfit and her brow creased a little more. Kurt pressed on. "They spray painted it, something about fags going to hell." The mere word made his tongue burn. Rachel's features went lax and her eyes, which were now shimmering with compassion and sympathy, did all the talking...until she opened her mouth.

"Oh my God," she said, holding Kurt's forearm and smoothing it with her thumb. The movement was innocent, but it was something Blaine would do to him, and he felt a pang of aching longing claim his chest.

"I'm just about to go and talk to Principal Figgins about it," Finn went on.

Kurt's head snapped up, his eyes wide, which he tried to mask with an indifferent tone. "Is that code for getting your ass kicked by Neanderthals? That's what you said you'd do yesterday and then you come home all...busted up."

Finn seemed embarrassed. "No, I'm really going to tell him what happened."

"Did...did they admit doing it?"

"Well...not a lot of talking was done. I just kind of shouted and they did it back and then the fists finished the conversation." He faintly smiled. "Don't worry I think I got in a few good punches. But I know it was them, dude. After everything that's happened between you and Karofsky, it's quite obvious."

Kurt looked away, casting his eyes downward to the ground, nibbling the inside of his cheek. "Will Figgins tell my dad?"

"What? You didn't tell him last night?" Kurt shook his head, earning an exasperated sigh. "Dude, why not? He's bound to find out when he comes back and my car's totalled. That's why I told him you wanted to talk last night."

"I don't want to cause him any unnecessary strain," Kurt explained lowly, his own words sounding ridiculous and trivial in his head.

"What so you'd rather get ripped on every day so he can enjoy his honeymoon?" Finn's voice was rising now, and only quietened it when Rachel touched his upper arm, giving it a squeeze. "Kurt, you're acting stupid man."

"I'm not stupid," Kurt said hotly. "I'm just being independent and unselfish."

"Unselfish?" Finn echoed loudly, earning some unwanted attention from the people passing them. "What if something happens to you, Kurt?"

"Nothing will okay? Just drop it."

Finn clenched his fists. "Fine I'll _**drop **_it. I'll just tell Figgins I don't know who did it. Happy now?" he stormed past Kurt, bumping his shoulder a little as he went. Rachel seemed torn, looking from Kurt to Finn and then back again. She only followed after her boyfriend once Kurt had nodded, whispering for her to go after him.

Kurt felt utterly isolated and more defenceless than he'd ever been. It simply hurt; pushing all the people he loved and held dearest away. He was aware it wasn't fair, or helping anyone at all but for some bizarre reason he kept telling himself it was for the best that other people didn't get involved with his problems anymore. He'd let in too many people; his dad, Carole, Mr Schue, Coach Sylvester, Finn, the entire Glee club...Blaine...they'd all got involved and what had happened? His dad wound up nearly throttling Karofsky and almost gave up his honeymoon for Kurt to transfer. Sam had gotten a black eye. Coach Sylvester resigned as principal just so she could be an 'extra pair of eyes' out in the hallways. Finn had gotten his car ruined and got into an unnecessary fight, partly over the car but a majority of it was over Kurt. And finally, Blaine had been pushed around as if he hadn't mattered, his strength unable to compare with Karofsky as the larger boy just knocked him down to the ground. All of that and for what? For Kurt...and he couldn't stand it anymore.

Kurt inhaled deeply until a twinge of pain plucked across his ribcage, opening his locker. Immediately he was staring right into the shining hazel eyes of Blaine; the photograph used to make his heart stutter and warmth to pass over his skin like a soothing hand. Now it just hurt...it really,_** really**_hurt. Stomach sinking, he hastily gathered his things, trying his hardest not to look back up at the picture. He'd almost forgotten that this was the spot where Karofsky liked to linger in hopes of spotting him; this was swiftly corrected as, with great force, Kurt's was shoved forwards so he staggered, the clang wailing through the air as he just about missed slamming his forehead into the metal.

Kurt swung around as if to verify who had done it to him though he already knew. Dave Karofsky gave an antagonizing wink before carrying on, glaring down on the few students who peered up at him in shock. Heart roaring, blood searing, Kurt crippled the tears ready to spill down his now ashen cheeks. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back so it touched the cool metal, attempting to relax himself. Forcing composure upon himself, Kurt straightened up, opened his eyes, and made his way to his first class.

**000**

Karofsky knew he had to leave it alone for a while. Hudson had most likely told Figgins it was him and Azimio who had done that shit to his car, though in pure honesty Dave had nothing to do with it. He had been talking to his math teacher about improving his grades and maybe taking extra classes, when he'd gotten a text with a picture file attached from Azimio. It was of the Hudson's car. FAGS GO TO HELL. Those words sliced through Dave relentlessly and he croakily asked to be excused so he could find Azimio and demand what the hell was going on. Azimio had been howling with laughter when he'd found him, and the only excuse he could muster for doing what he did, was: 'the homo deserves it'.

Dave liked to believe that all the people he did bad things to deserve it. The dweebs deserve to be tossed into a dumpster because they try to make him look and feel stupid as he wasn't as smart as him. The Glee dorks deserve to me slushied in the morning because they annoy him and their songs hurt his ears. Kurt deserved whatever came to him because...he liked boys. All the reasons seemed insignificant and measly, and it made Dave's stomach squirm whenever he considered it but that's how high school was run. He had to keep up with the others or else he'll be the one stinking of blueberry or whatever flavour was thrown into his face all freaking day.

He couldn't approach Hummel that day without being connected to Hudson, so Dave told himself the night before over and over: 'No matter what don't go near him, no matter what don't go near him, no matter what don't go near him'. That was before his sick ass dream.

Dave had dreamt about Hummel. It wasn't that unusual to dream about him, he sometimes just had ones about the homo's face as he turned around to look at him, that weird little smirk on his mouth. This time though it was different. It wasn't just following the faggot around but never quite catching up or weird ones where he just kept saying Dave's name. This time...Dave dreamt about having sex with him.

It woke him with a start at four in the morning and, to his humiliation, found his body had reacted to the dream in a way that revolted and scared him. Dave could not sleep again that night and just lay in his bed, waiting for his alarm to go off so not to bring attention to himself by getting up uncharacteristically early. He felt sick. He felt disgusting. What disturbed him even more was that it wasn't a nightmare. He didn't wake up initially frightened. He reluctantly recalled feeling slight disappointment of having woken up, which speedily transitioned into pure horror as he realised who he was dreaming of. No, scratch that. Not who. What gender he had been dreaming of. Dave clapped a hand in his mouth as he'd bolted up in bed, tears sprinting down his face as his knees buckled.

Karofsky did his best to push it out of his consciousness and numbly ate his breakfast with hardly any enthusiasm, mechanically raising the spoon to his mouth and enveloping it with his mouth. When he thought too hard about the action, he jolted suddenly, knocking the table and startling his mom. She laughed at him and he weakly smiled in return, apologising over and over again, forcing himself to finish off his cereal even though he felt like gagging when the head of the spoon entered his mouth.

He went to school, wanting nothing more than to stay home or even just go a full day without seeing Hummel. That hope was pummelled straight away when he spotted the boy walking with Hudson to school. Karofsky kept his distance, giving the two a wide berth as he slowed his pace, trying to remain unnoticed. He turned up his iPod and distracted himself by looking at his surroundings, though nothing interesting was there to look at. Eventually he had to look forward and at once he began to scrape his gaze over Hummel. The clothes were different; they didn't fit him as snugly as they usually did. They were a bit too big on him, as was the pale green hoodie he was wearing but nonetheless they still suited him. It made him look...cute. A plug had been pulled in his face, gulping his colour and warmth hungrily and leaving his face numb. A tightness pulled at his own jeans, and he realised he was beginning to lose control again. Dave felt like he was being squeezed too tightly; his stomach was knotted, his jaw was clenched as were his fists, his chest constricted, each of his muscles bunched together. He felt like he was going to burst at any given moment.

**000**

Kurt's mood remained damp throughout the rest of the day and it became progressively worse. The morning passed stiffly without any hints of joy or even contentment in Kurt; he felt absolutely miserable as he sat behind desk after desk, writing note after note, listening to drone after drone. English was probably the worst as they'd reached the scene in '_Streetcar Named Desire_' where Blanche Dubois, the main character, explained to her date, Mitch, that her ex-husband, Allen Gray, was a degenerate and had been having an affair. When asked what a 'degenerate' was, the teacher uncomfortably clarified that Blanche meant that Allen Gray was a homosexual, and had been having an affair with another man. I felt like everyone was looking at me, as if I was Allen Gray reincarnated. I wanted to drown inside my book, for the words to devour me and take me away from this place. Things only worsened when my teacher went on to say that the author, Tennessee Williams, was gay himself, and it stirred discomfort and revulsion in the other students. One girl even asked: '"There were gay guys in the 1940's?"

The afternoon didn't improve either, and Kurt felt even worse when he sat down for lunch with Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Rachel and Finn only to have his stepbrother get up the split second he sat down, heading over to sit on his own instead. Rachel shot Kurt an apologetic look before joining her boyfriend. Kurt's face burned in embarrassment and avoided everyone's bewildered expressions and their gentle questions. Mercedes, sensing he didn't want to talk about it, thankfully shifted the topic onto a subject that the others weren't willing to switch to but did so out of politeness. Kurt didn't touch his food, and only took a bite of his salad when Mercedes asked him to under her breath. She stuck to his side for the remainder of the lunch hour, slipping her arm into his the way they used to do just to stay connected when they were walking. Kurt didn't react and she didn't withdraw either despite noticing.

"Are you gonna tell me what went down with you and Finn or do I have to get it out of Finn?" Mercedes said once the others had left and she and Kurt were standing at the lockers. "He's easy to crack so either way I'm gonna find out."

"Just drop it, Mercedes, okay?" Kurt murmured, cringing as he did this all over again.

"No I'm not going to this time," she said, shutting his locker so he was compelled to look at her instead of hiding away. "You're not yourself right now and I get that, Kurt, I seriously do. Do you remember when I was trying to lose those ten pounds to stay on the Cheerios? I was trying to shut everyone else out 'cos it was none of their business and I ignored them when they told me I was hurting myself 'cos I didn't want someone telling me what to do. I wanted control over something, and that's what you're doing. But your business, what's going down with you, won't leave you having fainting in the cafeteria. You could really get hurt."

"I don't know what you mean..." Kurt started only to drift off when his best friend held up her hand to stop him.

"Yes you do," Mercedes scanned his eyes. "Karofsky, he's doing something to you. And you're pushing everyone away so no one gets hurt. Only someone will get hurt, Kurt and it'll be you."

"I've seen what happens when people get involved. You've seen it too. Finn didn't get a split lip from brushing his teeth too hard or whatever he says. He got in a fight with Karofsky and Azimio over me. It's...it's too much to watch people get hurt because of me."

Mercedes reached out and held his hand; he held it back, tightly. "You have to tell someone...tell Mr Schue or Sylvester or Figgins. Anyone who can get him expelled. Then he can't hurt anyone."

"You forget there's a world outside of McKinley, Mercedes. He'll wait around one day after school ends and he'll get his revenge. There's no point. He might not even do anything. He might leave it alone because he thinks Finn will tell on him or something." He slipped his hand out of hers. "I'm sorry Mercedes, but—there's nothing you can do. I'll see you later, okay?"

Kurt didn't wait for a response; he strode past her, his head ducked. Mercedes watched after him, watched him gradually fade into the cluster of students. She gulped and crossed her arms, feeling unnaturally cold. She knew he wouldn't forgive her for what she was about to do; Kurt was a private person, someone who didn't want people fretting over him or ruining someone's day. But Mercedes wasn't the kind of person who watched her best friends deteriorate. She marched in the opposite direction from her next class and headed straight for Figgins' office.

**000**

Kurt didn't attend Glee Club that day. He didn't want to step into a room with Mercedes and Finn's narrowed eyes boring into him, pushing him to the brink of giving in. He slipped a note under Mr Schue's office door, claiming he was sick and was going to go home, offering his sincere apologies. Kurt luckily didn't spot anyone from the club as he collected his possessions from his locker as the day was drawing to a close, and instead walked out of the school doors. He walked much quicker on his own without Finn stopping every few minutes ensuring he hadn't forgotten anything, and got home in around twenty-five minutes.

His home seemed like a sanctuary right now as Finn wasn't there, nor was his dad or Carole, away from everyone prying and asking questions. He was secluded and was able to sink into the silence who had been a stranger that day as he'd not had a single second of it. Kurt applied some cream to his bruise under his eye, which seemed to be melting back into his original skin tone and he got out some of his homework. He went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of apple juice, humming to himself and trying to avoid his mind from straying to how the Glee Club were doing and what everyone was saying about him. Taking a quick sip, Kurt returned into the living room to find he wasn't alone anymore.

**000**

"Where's Kurt?" Artie asked.

Finn perked up even though he tried to remain indifferent to the whereabouts of his stepbrother as he was still pissed off at him.

Mr Schue glanced up from the music sheets. "He's not very well, he went home."

Mercedes knew something was up, she felt it. Had he found out that she'd told Figgins everything and he was going to speak to him the following day? Was he going to skip school tomorrow? She felt a twinge of guilt and sank into her seat.

**000**

Kurt came to an abrupt halt, almost spilling his drink on the carpet. His eyes were wide as they took in the form of Dave Karofsky standing in his living room. Kurt never thought he'd see the day when his school bully would be standing in his house, and he'd never wanted it to happen at all. He swallowed hard, feeling the chilly layer of sweat break out on his forehead.

"W-what are you doing here?" Kurt choked out, struggling to hide the violent trembles that were rolling through his body.

Karofsky didn't answer him. He didn't do anything. That drove Kurt insane.

"Get out of my house now!" Kurt spoke through gritted teeth, his eyelids fluttering as he restrained tears. He knew why Dave was there, he knew what was going to happen and it made him feel ill. The bruises on his back, on his stomach, on his face blazed as if the fists were pounding into him all over again.

Karofsky didn't even flinch. And within a few seconds had crossed over to stand inches away from Kurt, one hand gripping the boy's wrist, causing him to drop his glass with a soul crunching smash, the shattered pieces scattering over the ground, the contents soaking the carpet. Kurt didn't, not even for a millisecond, find himself concerned over a stain. He felt the bones grind in his wrist and he grimaced, hating himself as he spotted the pleasure spreading over Karofsky's features.

**000**

Blaine's school day had not been any better than Kurt's, though now he was sitting in his room at home alone, contemplating calling the Hummel-Hudson household just to talk. He checked the clock. Glee club wouldn't be over just yet as McKinley finished later than they did at Dalton, so Blaine waited, playing Frank Sinatra's 'This Love of Mine' at full blast.

**000**

Kurt found himself face down on the floor, a shard of glass embedded in his palm as he'd fallen down, reaching out with his hands to prevent hitting his head only to find overwhelming pain flourishing there. He looked at it, blinking drearily at the bright red blood that dribbled like drool down his arm, falling to bloom on the carpet like flowers. Kurt found himself lifted up back onto his feet, the material of his hoodie creaking as it was stretched, close to tearing completely. Karofsky was looking at him again, and Kurt was amazed to find tears spilling down Dave's face rather than his own.

"You made me this way," Karofsky sobbed, shoving Kurt back so his lower back collided sharply with a corner table, the lamp that was once sitting peacefully on it knocked to the ground, the bulb splintering. "I wasn't like this before!"

Kurt hardly had time to recover when a fist was brought to his abdomen. He wanted to fall forward, to hug his abused stomach but Karofsky held him upright, landing another powerful punch. Kurt bit down on his tongue hard and could taste the blood swelling underneath his tongue. He was crying too now, his eyes watering fiercely. Karofsky's face crumpled up and his breathing quailed as he exhaled; chin quivering before slamming his fist into the side of Kurt's face. Kurt was finally allowed to collapse.

"You've ruined EVERYTHING for me, Hummel!" Karofsky yelled, rubbing the heel of his palm roughly against his eye. "My parents are going to hate me! I'll-I'll-I'll never be n-normal again!"

"You're ruining things for yourself, Dave," Kurt whispered, his voice gravelly as the wind was knocked clean out of him. "If you left this alone...if you let someone in...You wouldn't be here now." He felt a strong pang as he realised that the last part went the same for him. If he'd told someone, if he'd done what Mercedes, Finn and Blaine had wanted him to do all along, then he wouldn't be lying on the floor in excruciating pain.

Karofsky cast Kurt's words aside and delivered a painful kick into the boy's chest, bringing his foot upwards and then bringing it down with great force on Kurt's shoulder and right side, over and over and over again. It got too easy. The kicks seemed effortless, the punches poured like water from David onto Kurt. He couldn't stop himself. All the words Azimio had said, all those words like fag and queer and homo and hell stung his brain like bees continuously, never ceasing. He was going to hell now. He was going to spend eternity in hell and it was Hummel's fault. Before him, he was normal. He wanted girls, he wanted to get married, he wanted children, and he was going to heaven. Now it was all wrong. He was going to spend his nights cruising the gay bars and trying to get laid with as many men as possible, he was going to just fuck and fuck and fuck, he was going to die of aids or some shit and he was going to go straight to hell. That was what Karofsky believed his future was now. And it hurt. He wanted to have a daughter, he wanted to have a good job and for his dad to be proud of him. He wanted a normal fucking life. And that had all slipped right out of his hands when he met Kurt King of Queers Hummel.

**TBC**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The final paragraph was very difficult for me to write and I just want to clarify that that's not what I personally believe, it's what Dave Karofsky envisions a gay 'lifestyle' to be like. I will update quicker than before most likely as we now have a temporary computer available, and I won't leave you holding out for too long hopefully. If you have any questions, ask in a review and reviews are very much welcomed. I'd love to know what you guys thought and how you're currently feeling ~ MaisyShane. **

**PS: Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors. **


	10. Nothing

Finn made his way home, dragging his feet the entire way as he was trying to kill time. He wasn't quite up to having a faceoff with Kurt, and having to apologise since his stepbrother was way too stubborn to say sorry, especially when it concerned things like this. He even went as far to opt to stay behind after Glee club had ended to rehearse with Rachel, which made his girlfriend twice as radiant and kisses were all around (heck, she'd even let him bump her boob with his elbow, though that was probably an accident since he was just walking past her but all the same a boob is a boob). He tried to extend the session but, as per usual, Rachel saw right through his poor yet endearing efforts.

"You can't avoid Kurt forever you know," she said abruptly once he took to centre stage again. She hovered around the piano, feigning lack of interest by ghosting her fingertips along the keys, causing a note to at times murmur when she pressed too hard.

Finn turned to face her and then hastily looked away, his blotchy cheeks smoothing out to make his entire face look a shade of beetroot. "I dunno what you mean," he mumbled.

"Finn, I know you care about Kurt," Rachel continued despite his denial. "He's your brother, and you love playing the role of overprotective brother because you never had someone to look out for you." The nape of her neck prickled when he glimpsed at her again. "But maybe...maybe Kurt just wants to protect you too. You shouldn't take all this so personally."

Finn cast his eyes downward. "It just really, really pisses me off when he pushes me away. It's like he's saying I'm not good enough or something—I dunno but it just bugs me. I wasn't there for him when things got this bad last time. I don't want Sam or Puck or Mike or Artie or anyone to be the ones standing up this time. This time, I'm gonna do it right. I'm gonna be have his back no matter what like I promised."

Rachel smiled wryly. "You say you don't have a way with words, Finn Hudson...but if you said all you just said to me to Kurt...maybe he'll let you in."

Finn and Rachel had parted ways shortly after that, and she declined all his offers to walk her home, telling him firmly through a giggle to go home and talk to his stepbrother. It had started to get a little dark, which didn't bother him as much but all the same he bitterly wished he'd still had his car. He practiced what he was going to say to Kurt in his head at first, and gradually he began to say it under his breath to himself, even adding counter attacks in case he was interrupted. Finn earned a few concerned looks from people he passed so he resorted to just thinking about the apology speech. The house came into view and his mind was dunked, leaving it a clean slate when it arose again.

Finn felt a slight apprehension about going in, but blamed that on nerves. He stopped outside the front door, groping around for his keys in his pockets, and then pried open the front door. He expected a pool of light to slipper out from the living room but he was only greeted with further darkness. Finn frowned, helping himself inside.

"Kurt?" he called. His foot crunched on something, and for a millisecond he brightened, mind sprinting to: 'Snow! It can snow indoors!' though he took a rain check on that assumption and a worm of worry squired in his stomach uneasily. He flipped on the light and saw it wasn't snow at all; his foot had cracked the glass of a framed photograph of Kurt's school photo from a few years back.

"Aw man! I'm sorry dude!" Finn mumbled, partially to himself even though he was directing it to a Kurt he hadn't yet seen and just assumed he was in the room. "I'll get you a new frame." He lifted his foot and cautiously lifted it up, the fragments remaining sliding down and landing with a tinkling _clink _on the floor. Finn looked up, anticipating Kurt to be standing there, fuming and ready to explode. However, he saw something different.

There was no sign of Kurt, but Finn wasn't the only one to have broken something. The lamp his mom had brought with them from their old home had been knocked to the floor, no damage as such done apart from the bulb, whose roof had caved in. There was glass scattered over the floor by the door leading to the kitchen, and a red stain bloomed on the carpet. Finn's immediate thought was that Kurt had thrown a fit and had taken it out on the furniture, although that assumption was fleeting and briskly forgotten. The worm in his gut began to wriggle furiously.

"Kurt? Kurt, are you alright? What happened here?"

No response. Finn, for the sake of it, picked up the lamp from the floor and entered the kitchen, dodging the shards as best as he could. He peered into the room and saw nothing apart from a carton of apple juice left on the side, surely turning the drink inside lukewarm by now. He couldn't hear any movement anywhere, not a single creak of a floorboard or of a door, only his hard breathing as he turned and bolted up the stairs. Finn checked the bathroom, checked Burt and his mom's room (only quickly peeking after being scolded for years for going in her room and had learned better than to go snooping) and then stumbled back down into the living room again. He kind of knew Kurt would be in the bedroom, that's the one place he avoided because he didn't want to see. He was scared. Finn didn't know what he was going to see, and wasn't certain he wanted to. Terrible notions scratched the surface of his brain, and he had to repeatedly shake his head to rid himself of the thoughts.

Finn numbly took down the stairs, hands clutching the rail as he did so to steady himself. He urged himself to look and he blanched when he saw Kurt sitting upright in the corner of the room, staring with glazed eyes into space as if it transfixed him, as if he'd never seen this place before. The lighting was dim, but Finn could see Kurt's form trembling violently. Finn slowly approached his stepbrother, apologies and arguments cast aside abruptly like they never mattered in the first place. They didn't, not right now. Kurt mattered.

"Kurt..." Finn said softly, crouching down next to him, keeping his eyes down in awkwardness. "What's going on?" when he received no reply, he groaned. "C'mon talk to me man. Kurt—" he trailed off when he noticed a light glistening against his stepbrother's arm, and immediately Finn understood what it was.

Gently, he reached out and touched Kurt's forearm, earning a twitch of the skin under his hand. He extended it until it was stretched out to its full length, the palm facing upwards to the ceiling. In the centre of it, was a long deep wound like a small thin lipped mouth and it was still bleeding profusely, deep red skidding tiredly down his wrist. When Finn caught the droplet, it was cool to the touch. He felt a chill like a breeze pass over his skull through his eyes as he noticed a shard of glass embedded into Kurt's skin; he felt nauseous and wanted to be sick there and then. Restraining himself, he snatched his eyes away from the injury up at Kurt's inactive ones.

"Kurt," Finn swiped a tongue over his now unnaturally dry lips. "What happened?"

Kurt didn't react at first, but when Finn went to repeat himself, his face crumpled and his eyes shut as tears cascaded down his face. For a while not a single sound departed from him, until he inhaled and his breath sounded weak and wavered in the air like a freshly plucked string of a guitar. Rubbing his eyes with something that Finn recognised as an item of clothing, Kurt turned to him, his teeth chattering. Finn was shoved further into shock.

"F-F-Finn..." Kurt breathed. "I hurt..." he shut his eyes and his brows creased with inner anguish and physical agony. "I hurt everywhere..."

"Who did this to you, Kurt?" Finn knew the answer. He needn't have asked but he wanted to hear it from Kurt, he needed to clarify it, to hear it strike the air and deliver a painful blow to himself.

Kurt couldn't answer; he shook his head and brought his knees upwards with great struggle, putting his forehead against his kneecap. "I want my dad..." he whimpered. "I-I-I hurt so much."

Finn felt dizzy. "Okay dude...uhm...I should...should I take...yeah." he felt his stomach turn over like a pile of leaves being toppled by a strong wind, yet he powered through it and wrapped an arm around Kurt's back, the other holding the nook of the other's arm.

When Kurt stood, the pain stirred inside of him as it had been merely slumbering, and he winced, his knees giving out underneath him, dropping whatever he'd been holding onto the floor. Finn had to grasp swiftly what was going on and steadied his stepbrother, cursing all the while. It was then Finn realised Kurt was probably hurt way more than first anticipated and his blood was practically blistering his skin as it was burning so severely. Kurt leaned his back against the wall, the chill of it soothing the aches rooted in his lower back, and touched his abdomen lightly to ease the tenderness he found there.

"I'm gonna _**kill **_that bastard," Finn growled, carefully helping Kurt back down into a sitting position. Although he didn't specify whom he was referring, Kurt knew and for the first time ever, he truly believed Finn meant it.

Upstairs, the phone rang, unheard, unheeded. Blaine held it to his ear, waiting for someone to pick up. The phone just rang, and rang, and rang, and rang...

_**I'm sorry, the number you called is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep. **_

Blaine put the phone down and squeezed his eyes shut, shielding them with his hand as he bowed his head, tears sliding from the corners down his face. In the background, Sinatra's voice rolled over Blaine.

_**This love of mine, goes on and on, **_

_**Though life is empty, **_

_**Since you have gone,**_

_**You're always on my mind,**_

_**Though out of sight,**_

_**It's lonesome through the day,**_

_**But oh the night,**_

_**I cry my heart out...**_

_**It's bound to break...**_

_**Since nothing matters...**_

_**Let it break,**_

_**I ask the sun and the moon,**_

_**The stars that shine...**_

_**What's to become of it?**_

_**This love of mine...**_

_**I cry my heart out,**_

_**It's bound to break,**_

_**Since nothing matters,**_

_**So let it break,**_

_**I ask the sun and the moon,**_

_**The stars that shine...**_

_**What's to become of it?**_

_**This love of mine...**_

_**This love of mine goes on...**_

**000**

Kurt was exhausted; it was as if all of his muscles had been stretched to their absolute limit and were trying to resort back to their original form. His throat was raw; as were his eyes...his entire body was as a matter of fact. He kept trying to doze, just to escape everything for a moment but either Finn patted his cheeks, mumbling something about concussions or a searing pain would flare, startling him awake. When Finn had left to get some tissues to clean him up, Kurt managed to just drift for a second. He regretted it instantly. Instead of escaping, he went right back to what was possibly the worst instant of his life.

Karofsky had been in hysterics once he'd managed to stop bringing his foot down on Kurt, and had stood there over him, panting heavily. He made a strange whining sound and ran both hands through his short hair, chest heaving and breath hitching as sobs started to overwhelm him. Kurt had just lain there, curled up on his living room floor with his temple rested on the carpet, feeling the hot swells of blood drip down his nose. His shoulder throbbed, his joints griped, his skin was sore. It felt like his flesh had been ripped off of him like a quilt, and his muscles had been snapped strand by strand away from his bone, leaving him a lifeless skeleton with the cold oxygen whispering through him chilling him to his core. Then everything had been reapplied, but was messier and some parts of him were missing, and he could only lie there and notice the gigantic gap lying within him. All he could focus on was what was gone, what had left him, and what had taken its place. He felt worthless and like he was nothing.

"You did this...he did thi—he..." Karofsky was speaking breathily to himself, sounding on the brink of a mental breakdown as he towered over the boy he'd just beaten to dust. "It's not mah—not my fault GODDAMMIT!" Dave suddenly thundered and brought his fist into the wall before sprinting away. Not a single threat was left behind, not a single warning for Kurt not to tell anyone. And Kurt knew it was because David Karofsky no longer cared.

Kurt had lain on the floor for what felt like hours, but when he checked the hands of the clock had just about twitched forwards. Life went on. He'd struggled to get to his feet for a while, trying to steady himself by pressing his hands to the wall only to sag back down onto his knees when the pain became too much for him to conceive. It was unbearable, the agony he had been feeling. He wondered how people could get into fights, knowing it was all going to hurt so badly if they swung their first at the wrong time or got distracted giving their opponent the opportune moment to strike. When Kurt had eventually managed to stand, he walked downstairs and had simply collapsed.

It was like a haven to him, his bedroom. It was the place his dad had stood up for him, where he would retreat to after an argument, where he'd feel absolutely free to say and do whatever he wanted without someone glaring at him or judging him. He felt comforted in the confines of that room, and just collapsed down on the floor. It took a while for him to notice a shape under his bed, and when he finally saw it, he stretched his arm out despite the hurt, and had brought it out into the gloomy light. It was a shirt. A simplistic, plain black v-neck shirt but Kurt felt a pang because he knew it wasn't his own. It was Blaine's; it was the one he was wearing when he'd come over on the Tuesday after changing out of his Dalton uniform. He must have carelessly discarded it whilst getting dressed on the night and it had been forgotten. Kurt instinctively pressed the material to his nose and gulped the scent of Blaine Anderson like it was water to a sore throat. The sweet aftershave Blaine always wore, one whose remains now acted as a sort of musk even when he hadn't applied a fresh amount, poured through Kurt like medicine.

Kurt still held it in his lap, staring at it with heavy lidded eyes as he awaited Finn's return. He thought about Blaine...

"_**You're perfect, Kurt. You're not nothing; you're not just what those jocks label you as. You...you move me...Kurt. And when I thought about Karofsky hurting you again, something inside me just snapped. I realised that if anything happened to you...I would be heartbroken...**_"

...and he started to weep all over again; weeping for himself, weeping out of pain, weeping out of shame, weeping out of guilt and remorse.

**000**

Blaine knew it was stereotypical thing to claim that shopping made him forget his worries for a short while and made him feel better, but it was absolutely true. After he had called the Hummel-Hudson household to no avail, he'd sat in his room with 'This Love of Mine' on a constant loop and it got to the point where he couldn't differentiate the start from the ending of the song. About an hour later, his mood had not improved and he found himself in a dark place. He simply put a stop to it by cutting Sinatra off mid-lyric and got himself changed out of his uniform and into something warm. He was going to the mall, just to distract himself and prevent the moroseness from getting into his bloodstream. Blaine just had in his earphones, picturing himself singing at Sectionals and receiving a standing ovation for his efforts as he nosed half-heartedly through the clothes on sale.

Blaine wasn't intending on buying anything, and just drifted from store to store, drowning out the world with song after song. The only movement out of routine was when he'd wrinkle his nose and skip one, thinking to delete that off of his playlist later though he never did. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he found himself staring at the same shirt in GAP for over ten minutes at the least, and his lack of shifting had caught the attention of someone else.

"Can I help you?"

Blaine turned for his eyes to lock with a set of misty ones, and found the guy he was looking at very attractive with his wavy dirty blonde hair and tall stature. The man smiled, and Blaine analysed that he was an employee of the shop and weakly smiled, shaking his head in embarrassment.

"Um...no I'm just looking," he explained meekly.

The guy folded his arms. "It's my job to make sure you go home with something, you know. Otherwise I have to send you out."

"Oh, don't worry I'm just about to—"

"Unless, you come out of here with me to come get some coffee maybe?"

Blaine was hit on quite often...by the opposite sex...so he wasn't entirely naive or oblivious when it came to being hit on. If it had been the week previous, before those things with Kurt had happened (both good and bad), he would have been giddy with delight and his heart would be hiccupping in his chest. Those things with Kurt had happened nonetheless and he felt nothing change. The first thought that came to mind was that he wasn't Kurt. Blaine opened his mouth to politely decline, but not a lone word came out. Nothing was going on with Kurt anymore—was it? He'd turned him away. He'd made it pretty clear. And despite still feeling all he did, it wasn't going to do any good now, for Blaine or for Kurt. So instead, Blaine forced energy into his smile.

"I'd be delighted to help you keep your job," Blaine replied. "So when do you finish-"

"Jeremiah," the man said, mouth splitting into a very handsome grin. "And I get off in five minutes. Wait for me?"

Blaine nodded. "Of course." And Jeremiah had gone to the tills, serving the last customers of the day. Blaine waited in the shoe section as that was where he could sit down. He remembered how nervous and excited he'd been, waiting outside of Kurt's front door on the day of their first date though he hadn't exactly clarified that that was what it was. How he'd not even felt a shadow of disappointment when they wound up staying at home instead; just being close to Kurt was good enough. Blaine had been blatant then, hadn't known what he was feeling, what the other was feeling, what was going to happen. This time he wasn't pacing, he wasn't worried about being too early, he wasn't feeling...anything. But he didn't get up and leave. Why? Because it was going to take his mind off things and it was going to make things better and easier.

Jeremiah approached him, the hood of his fleece up and his headphones around his neck; Blaine got up.

"You ready?" Jeremiah asked brightly, a hue of pink on his cheeks. He was feeling the things Blaine had felt on the doorstep of the Hummel-Hudson household.

"Definitely," Blaine said, and the two of them left to go and get coffee.

**000**

Burt and Carole Hummel had been planning on going scuba-diving on the Thursday evening of their trip. He wasn't a strong swimmer, but he'd promised his wife he'd give it a try for her, which made her happy. He was waiting for her to get out of the shower when the phone had started to ring.

He answered it brightly. He hung up devastated.

**000**

Finn had hated waiting for a lot of things in his life; he was the kind of child who would sit up at night waiting for Christmas Day to come even though his mom had warned that Santa wouldn't leave presents if he was awake. He wasn't patient enough to manage waiting around to hear some news about Kurt. He'd gotten the calls out of the way; Burt first of course, explaining briefly what had happened and not dipping into the gory details. Then he'd called Rachel and asked if she could come up to the hospital to be there for him and Kurt, to which she said yes to straight away. Finally, he'd tried to call Blaine though couldn't remember the number as he hadn't seemed to have saved it in his contacts. He decided that it was probably for the best, not sure whether Kurt would want the Dalton student to know what had happened.

When the ambulance turned up, the paramedics asked him a lot of questions like did Kurt have any enemies, did he seem able to focus on anything, did he throw up, did he cough up blood etc. Bombarded by their inquiries, Finn just mumbled 'yes' and 'no', standing uncomfortably behind them like a watchful guardian as they blinked a light into Kurt's eyes and also asked him questions like what his name was and where the pain was located. And then Kurt was being taken away, supported by two of the men as they deemed the stretcher unnecessary. Finn trailed behind them, flushing when he saw neighbours had gathered outside to peek at who was being taken away to distract themselves from their own lives. Finn was able to ride in the ambulance, not sure whether he was supposed to hold Kurt's hand like in the movies, so just murmured soothing words to him instead. It was the best he could do.

**000**

Karofsky wanted to be loved. But not by the person _**he **_loved. It was the wrong person. He shouldn't love Kurt Hummel. He stormed up to his room, ignoring his parents when they called up to him, asking what the matter was. He locked his bedroom door behind him. Went into his en-suite bathroom and tore open the medicine cabinet, rummaging carelessly through the contents, not batting a lid when things fell out onto the tiled floor. He took up the aspirin and went back to his room to sit on his bed. David poured out the pills like snowdrops, a storm billowing to land on his sheets. He heard the muffled discussion exchanging between his mom and dad downstairs or outside the door now, he wasn't certain. He stared at his knuckles, the skin grazed with splotches of blood stinging there. He wasn't sure if the blood was even his own. Dave devoured pill after pill, gulping dry so his throat clenched in protest, making him feel sick. In his mind, he was hearing his own voice yelling the same word over and over and over again...

_**FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT!**_

**000**

Jeremiah was easy to talk to as well as transparently good-looking; Blaine should have felt lucky to have been asked out by this guy, but he didn't. He thought about Kurt the entire time. How when they'd get coffee he'd order a grande non-fat mocha and his pinky finger would be up as he held his scorching hot cup. When they were ordering, Kurt would stand so close to Blaine it was as if they were joined at the shoulder; Jeremiah was such a closet case it was unreal. With Kurt he wouldn't lower his voice if he mentioned anything about his sexuality; he'd say it in the same pitch as everything else he said. Jeremiah didn't really talk at all as they waited for their drinks, standing next to Blaine with his arms crossed and always looking straight ahead. When they'd sat down, he leaned back in his chair as far as he possibly could and would turn shuffle uncomfortably whenever someone looked at them curiously. He was paranoid, he assumed just because he was having a drink with another guy everyone was getting ready to paint picket signs.

Blaine wasn't really into someone who was so in the closet he'd pretend Blaine was just a friend in public and then as soon as they were alone, he would awkwardly brush his hand against his then snatching it away when someone came around the corner. Nonetheless, it was helping Blaine divert himself. He talked animatedly, about the Warblers and Sectionals and asked questions about Jeremiah like what music he was into, all the awkward getting-to-know-you talk. Jeremiah would respond enthusiastically for the most part, and when they turned a corner, seeing the street was empty, he unexpectedly leaned in...Blaine just as unexpectedly pulled away.

He knew immediately the reason. It was because he wasn't feeling anything. It would be like if Wes or David had suddenly gone in to kiss him. It seemed out of the blue even though they were kind of on a date. Blaine didn't like Jeremiah in that sense, and wouldn't be bothered if he didn't see him again the following day. It wasn't a crush, it wasn't anything. It was coffee with a good looking guy, to take his mind off of the one person he did have feelings for. Jeremiah was stung at being rebuffed and cast his eyes down, bringing his jaw forward and nodding as if he got it though he probably had no idea.

"I-I'm sorry, I dunno why I...why I did that..." Blaine murmured.

"I do...and I know you do too," Jeremiah said, looking at Blaine closely. "You don't like that I'm a closet case, right?"

It wasn't exactly right but it was part of the cause too in a way so Blaine just nodded. Jeremiah sighed heavily and stroked his chin distractedly.

"I'm just not—into being out and proud," he admitted. "I don't get why people have to make such a spectacle of themselves, like gay pride and stuff? Why single yourself out?"

Blaine shrugged. "Pride is a day when you can hold a hand with the person you love...in a crowd of people who have seen the same ignorance and bigotry that you have...and feel like you totally belong for once. It's not easy holding hands with someone of the same sex down the street in a crowd of heterosexual couples, and once every year you get a chance to leave that behind you."

Jeremiah considered this. "I haven't come out to anyone, you know..."

"You did today, you did to me," Blaine smiled faintly. "I'm sorry...I better be heading home. It's late."

Jeremiah nodded in understanding and raised his hand in a motionless wave prior to turning and walking away. Blaine watched after him. He pondered on whether he'd made a mistake, if he should have just kissed Jeremiah anyway. But he knew, deep down, he wouldn't be ready to do that with anyone for a while, out of the closet or otherwise. His heart was still set on Kurt.

**000**

"Finn Hudson? Mr. Hudson?"

Finn jolted from a murky dream to find a nurse with her mousy hair pulled back into a ponytail, her brown eyes practically oozing sympathy though he wasn't certain if it was genuine as she probably had to act that way to all of the family and friends of patients no matter the circumstance, big or small, broken arm or terminal illness. He rubbed his weary eyes with the heel of his hand, glancing around looking for Rachel, who had turned up twenty minutes or so after he'd called her. She wasn't there and he panicked slightly but the nurse explained.

"She's gone to get you and her something to eat."

Finn relaxed at that and blinked rapidly for a few moments to rid the hazy mist disturbing his vision. He flushed when he realised he must have looked comical at that point, but the nurse didn't even have to disguise a smile.

"Doctor Fitzgerald is nearly finished with the examination," she clarified softly. "Mr. Hummel will need to rest afterwards, and we want to keep him overnight at the least. The doctor will like to speak to you once we have Mr. Hummel in a room, and the police want you to answer some questions if that is alright?"

Finn said it was, and she left him, trading places with Rachel who returned with some sandwiches. She planted a tender kiss on his cheek and handed him one of the two, putting a can of coke between them to share. Usually the sandwich would be resorted to crumbs within a few seconds; however Finn couldn't even bring himself to chew. He was riddled with penitence (though he wasn't entirely sure what that meant) and just wanted to kick Karofsky's ass. He vowed to do so as soon as he was sure Kurt was okay, although Rachel would probably successfully prevent him from doing so.

Doctor Fitzgerald walked directly towards them five minutes later; he was a tall man with thinning dark brown, nearly black, hair and dark eyes to match with a prominent nose and a kind of high pitch to his voice. He was the kind of man Finn disliked on principal, the kind of guy who gave off the feeling that he assumed he was better than you. Putting that aside, Finn looked through all that and listened keenly, reaching out and grasping Rachel's hand.

"How is he?" Finn asked the all too cliché question, mentally squirming at his own predictability and how easily he fell into that role.

"He's resting," Doctor Fitzgerald said, bringing a chair across to sit closer to Finn and Rachel. "He's received a very violent beating, I would say judging from his injuries. The glass in his hand has been successfully removed and the wound stitched; he'll have to be careful not to reopen it as it heals. We found approximately two of his ribs have been cracked, though we can do nothing to fix that so we'll have to treat with simple pain killers as it holds no danger to his organs. Now, he will be black and blue for quite a while. He has a Type I AC separated shoulder; basically a sprain. He'll have to have his arm in a sling for a few weeks or so, and we'll prescribe him some anti-inflammatory medication to help. Mr. Hummel seems to be in a state of shock, which is expected considering what has happened, and I recommend he speak to a counsellor connected to the hospital until he feels he has entirely recovered. Now, Mr. Hudson, the police wish to speak to you about the attack and if you know who did it..."

"I think I know," Finn interrupted, blushing when the words burst from his mouth.

Doctor Fitzgerald held his hand up as Finn opened his mouth. "My business is medicine, the business of assault lies with the police I'm afraid. Officer Bradley and Cray are the ones you need to speak to. Once you've finished talking to them, you can go to Mr. Hummel's bedside." He smiled wryly with his mouth pressed together and got to his feet, leaving Finn and Rachel behind.

Rachel was looking at Finn. "Was it him, Finn? Are you sure? Maybe you—maybe it was someone else. There are other people around who would do this, you know." "I know who it was, Rach," Finn replied, yet he knew he wasn't a hundred percent certain. "It was Dave Karofsky."

_**TBC Thank you for reading, please review. I don't know much about hospitals in America (I live in the UK) but I'm saying that they called for an ambulance because they had no other means of transportation and they didn't know the extent of Kurt's injuries. I'm by no means a doctor, and I might be 100% wrong but hopefully that does not deter from the story too much. I highly recommend you listen to Frank Sinatra's 'This Love of Mine' as it is truly beautiful and matched with how Blaine was feeling, hence why I used it as the song he is listening to. The 'In the Wee Small Hours' is my favourite version and the one I would have Blaine listening to.**_


	11. Explanations & Yearning

**Ella Greggs – Thanks for the review now I'm going to answer the questions you had; Azimio slushied Finn out of spite; it wasn't part of the plan to slushie him but he saw an opportunity and took it to be spiteful hence why Karofsky was pissed off at him because he didn't think about it. Azimio seems like the kind of person who'd not think twice about what he's doing and he'd act strictly on impulse, so when he saw Finn standing alone oblivious to him, Azimio saw it as an opportunity to get his own back. Also, I tend to be the taller one in relationships as I'm 5'7 but I'm more submissive in relationships so I always lie lower in the bed so I seem the smaller one. I imagined Kurt would like to be held for once by someone he cared about, like he was being protected by Blaine rather than him holding onto someone :D hope this answers some of your questions, thank you for reading.**

Every time Kurt had fallen asleep with a fever or had went to bed feeling sick, the first thing he'd usually see was his dad having dozed off whilst sitting vigil at his bedside. This time wasn't any different of course. When Kurt's eyes flickered open, his blurry vision made out a figure sitting slouched in a chair, peak of a cap pulled over the eyes to shield them from the light of the room. Kurt knew it was his dad and the pain that fuzzed inside of him like white noise quietened slightly, knowing he was going to be safe now. The last thing he recalled was Finn telling him something along the lines of 'don't worry, dude, I'm sure guys dig scars too'.

Kurt stretched his legs cautiously, feeling the muscles flex gratefully beneath his skin, bending his feet ballet style, arching his back a little. That was when a screech of pain snapped across his lower back and he whimpered, settling back down. Burt Hummel jolted awake as if the sound of his son was an alarm telling him to get into doting father mode. Relief smeared his once taut features and he rose to his feet, gently resting a hand on Kurt's hair. Usually, Kurt would complain about it flattening and losing its style but he truly didn't care right then. The touch was comforting and he soaked it in like a sponge would water, shutting his eyes as he relaxed. When he looked back up at his dad, he felt a pang of guilt when he saw the tears lingering there in his father's milky green eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," Burt murmured, inhaling shakily before continuing, rubbing his nose with his free sleeve. "I shouldn't have gone. I shoulda known something was going to happen...I-I _**knew **_something wasn't right when we talked on the phone. Your mom...now she woulda known. And none of this would have—would have..." his face crumpled and he bowed his head for a moment. When it rose again, a new emotion was burning there, one Kurt recognised as hate. "I swear to God when I get my hands on that Karofsky kid..."

Kurt mentally recoiled at the mentioning of Dave Karofsky though did his best not to show it. He felt so small and pathetic, lying in bed with his dad hovering over him like a protective tower, a Great Wall of China.

"It's not..." Kurt cleared his throat when his words came out foggy. "It's not your fault, Dad..."

Burt looked ready to protest but stopped when Kurt grimaced again, panic sweeping up the relief leaving absolutely no trace behind on his face. Burt leaned over, stroking his son's hair more frantically to soothe him, the way he would when he'd had a fever or a nightmare or a bellyache when he was younger.

"Hey, kiddo what's up?" Burt Hummel said, trying to keep fright out of his tone so not to scare Kurt. "You hurting? What should I do?"

"Dad..." Kurt whispered, smiling faintly. "I just shifted my shoulder a bit. I'm fine."

Burt's hand halted and he wearily returned the smile. "Oh," was all he managed, feeling completely unhelpful and useless. He took his hand away, tucking it securely back into his jacket pockets as if to prevent them from doing something else unnecessary.

"Where's Finn? And Carole?" Kurt asked, noting how quiet the room was which indicated the absence of his stepbrother.

"Carole took Finn home to get showered and into a new change of clothes," his dad explained, awkwardly sitting back down in his chair. "They'll be back in a bit. They had to take Rachel home too; her dads were giving us an earful this morning."

"Wha—Rachel was here?" Kurt's eyes widened. "She's going to tell everybody!"

Burt gave a short laugh that held no sense of humour. "I'm pretty sure everybody already knows, Kurt."

Kurt's mind immediately sprang to Blaine, and he wondered if the Dalton student had possibly heard and was on his way over. No, probably not. Even if he had heard, it was doubtful he'd come here. Not after everything. Kurt bit the inside of his cheek.

"Why didn't you tell me, Kurt?"

Kurt glanced at his father, his chest constricting, which did not do much good for his ribs that hurt like hell yet he masked it to save his father from giving another heavy handed technique. He opened his mouth, then shut it and then opened it again.

"I don't know..." he breathed, tears starting to brim. "I didn't want you...to worry."

Burt shook his head and rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose before bringing his hands together. "I'm more than worried now, Kurt, you realise that right? I get a call from Finn who tells me Karofsky has hurt you and says I have to get back home as soon as possible. A five second call...I didn't know anything, Kurt. _**Nothing**_. I didn't know what had happened to you, how badly you were..." his voice trailed off. After a pause he pressed on. "You're all I have and thinking I was gonna lose that let alone not be there? I wanted to be with you if you..."

Kurt stared at his father. Did his dad seriously think he was going to die? He swallowed hard.

"You should have gone to Dalton, Kurt," his father said after an elongated silence.

Kurt thought the same, but had not yet vocalised it not even in his head. If he'd gone to Dalton, maybe things with Blaine would have been different. However, it would have erased all of the good things that the pair had shared.

_**I got permission to leave the grounds for the day. Finn came to Dalton and told me what happened. That you'd had a panic attack. To be completely honest I haven't...been that scared in my whole life.**_

_**I denied everything I felt because it hasn't been long at all. I don't know your favourite colour or your entire past; I don't even know your birthday. When I tear our relationship apart and see it like that, I know that I shouldn't feel so strongly towards you. But you know what? I don't...I don't even care. What I do know, is that you are wonderful. You make me feel like a better person, you're everything I wished I could be, you're funny, you're sweet, you're caring, you're silly, you're thoughtful, you're so beautiful when you smile and when you look at me and when you sing...I've been looking for you forever. And knowing you for a short amount of time isn't going to let me allow myself to let you go. Kurt...**_

_**You're too adorable when you stare like that. Stop or I'm going to overload. **_

_**It just means that once school's finished, you have to hold my hand for the rest of the day without letting go for a second.**_

_**I missed you. A lot...and it's difficult playing straight when you're so...**_

_**I'm thankful that I'm gay now...because if I wasn't, I wouldn't be with you.**___

Kurt looked at his dad, all the sincerity in his being radiating off of him and dripping from the words he spoke. "I don't regret my decision. Because, Dad, something happened before all...this." Burt straightened up in his seat. Kurt licked his dry lips. "Even though it was a short space of time...I fell for someone..."

**000**

Carole was insistent that Burt leave his son's bedside for a few minutes to go have a coffee with her, reassuring him that Finn would be there in case anything happened (which didn't give Burt that much peace of mind but he agreed anyway). They were walking to the canteen, talking about the only topic that was dominating their thoughts currently: Kurt. How he was doing, what he'd said about falling for someone, about his injuries, about if their insurance would cover everything. That was when Burt had spotted him out of the corner of his eye, someone familiar talking to two police officers with a doctor present. The man was talking very frantically, using frequent hand gestures to strain his point that didn't seem to be getting across.

Burt Hummel halted in his path and watched on with narrowed eyes, sussing out who it was and then it clicked like a cog had turned in his head and he was storming over, Carole's arm having slipped out of his arm as he'd marched forward. She followed him in bewilderment, asking what the matter was though not receiving an answer. The man didn't notice Burt until he was mere inches away from him.

"Please, sir!" a police officer said upon noticing Burt's arrival. "Please this is a private discussion!"

"Yeah, one that should involve his kid kicking the crap outta my son!" Burt hollered, raising a fist though he had no real intention of hitting the guy who had requested he referred to him as Paul.

Paul Karofsky seemingly only just then recognised who it was and cast his eyes down in shame.

The police officers exchanged looks, looks that suggested they were aware of the situation already on both sides. "Are you referring to David Karofsky?"

Burt nodded, the name causing him to pinch his nails into his palms. "Last night he put my son in hospital."

One of the officers shuffled on their feet uneasily. "David Karofsky is in intensive care right now," they reported lowly. "He attempted suicide last night. Attempted overdose. He's in critical condition right now but he should be okay. Would you be okay to answer some of our questions?"

**000**

"Have you told Blaine?"

"I didn't...know if you'd want me to..."

Kurt considered this. He had eventually managed to sit up in bed and, despite it causing him some discomfort, he felt much better and less vulnerable, which was made ten times worse by Finn's height, standing over him like a building or something. He and Finn hadn't talked much about what had gone on, they just sat mostly in silence with Finn occasionally inquiring what it felt like to have stitches and would it hurt if he poked the bruise that was blooming quite nicely on Kurt's forehead. Turns out it did. Blaine had been the main thing on Kurt's brain since he'd woken up and had told his dad about having his first kiss (meaning one that counted and skipping out on the fact his first kiss with a boy was with the one who had beaten him to a pulp). Burt had listened politely and had simply smiled, saying the all too cliché line: 'Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all'.

"Do you?" Finn pressed after not receiving an immediate response.

"I'm not sure," Kurt admitted. "I don't know if it'd be the right thing to do. Whether it'd be wrong to ask him to get involved when I'd basically told him that was the one thing I didn't want."

Finn looked lost for a second and then nodded in understanding. "I think he'd like to know, man."

A part of Kurt wanted Blaine to know, and he considered that his selfish side. He wanted to know if Blaine would be worried, wanted to make amends and fix their tarnished relationship but Kurt knew it wouldn't be that easy. Him being in a hospital bed with a few injuries would make Blaine discard all of the words that were exchanged between them; in fact it may make him angrier because it was what he'd been warning Kurt of all along. That he was being stupid trying to go through everything on his own. Kurt was still convinced that he had been right; it probably would have still happened even if he had let Blaine in, had told Mr. Schue and had gotten his dad to come home early. Karofsky probably would have put two people in the hospital, and in Kurt's opinion, him being in hospital was better than both him and Blaine being there.

"I don't want him to know," Kurt decided, not wanting to see Finn's reaction to what he said. "It's bad enough everyone at McKinley is going to know. If he finds out on his own then...fine but I don't want you or Rachel or anyone for a matter of fact going up to him and saying hey you know what you were right and you can say I told you so."

"I don't think Blaine would do that," Finn responded meekly. "Dude...haven't you learnt you lesson? Pushing everyone away does not help..."

"Maybe you're right, Finn," Kurt said hotly. "Maybe I should get beaten up again so the lesson _**really**_ sinks in."

"I totally didn't mean it like that—"

"However you meant it doesn't matter," Kurt felt lightheaded. "Just leave me alone."

"Mom told me not—Kurt, are you okay? You look kinda pale..."

"That's just m-my complexion," Kurt felt a thin cool layer of perspiration flatten out on his forehead. "Please just go."

At that moment, the door opened and Carole stepped in, picking up the atmosphere that was practically thick with tenseness. Her eyes swung from Finn to Kurt and back again like a swing. Then she asked Finn to speak with her for a minute outside and her son complied hesitantly, casting a sideways glance at Kurt as he left. Once the door was shut, Kurt allowed his body to slide down so the back of his head was being cradled by the pillow again. His shoulder throbbed dully, the painkillers he was on dimming to welcome the pain that was fresh and full of energy after having a nice doze. Everything just hurt. Kurt had been smiling and talking as if he was completely fine, yet he didn't feel it. Not in the least. He still felt in pieces, parts of him scattered from left to right and he had no idea where to start when putting himself back together. Kurt thought about Karofsky, about how the boy had left without a single threat. He wondered if, when he got out of here, Karofsky would come back for more. Did everyone know he did it? Would he be arrested? Would he be expelled? Kurt wasn't certain but he just wanted everything to stop. It was like the world was on a continuous spin and even though the one who was turning him around and around had left, he continued to revolve endlessly. He just needed some time to see clearly, to see where he was and where he was going, to not just see a blur anymore.

"Kurt?" Finn said, standing in the doorway though Kurt hadn't noticed him coming in. "Karofsky attempted suicide."

Kurt twisted faster and faster and faster still.

**000**

Will Schuster knew as soon as he heard the news that it would have mixed reactions at McKinley. Some of the students, mostly those who knew Kurt, seemed sombre and asked him if he had any more information on the boy's condition to which Will would regretfully shake his head. Others were on Karofsky's side it seemed. When Will had entered his first class, the first thing he heard was Azimio saying something viciously along the lines of 'that fag takes one step back in his place I'll make him pay'. When Azimio spotted the Spanish teacher, he quietened and sheepishly lowered his head.

Mr. Schue felt at a loss and considered cancelling Glee Club that day to give everyone a rest, but when he suggested it to Emma she urged him to carry on the session as normal.

"Don't give them more reason to see something's wrong," she said whilst polishing a single grape until it looked almost fake, too shiny to be real. "Just help them take their mind off of it. How is he doing?"

Mr. Schue shrugged and puffed out his cheeks. "I'm not sure. Figgins called us all in his office this morning and just said that Kurt and Karofsky were in hospital and both of their conditions were uncertain right now. I doubt Finn will be in today, or maybe all of next week for a matter of fact. It's just..." he sighed. "I wish that I'd done something."

Emma popped the fruit into her mouth after a close fourth inspection and gave a sympathetic smile. "You did all you could, Will. What more could you have done? Kurt wasn't letting anyone in. You can't force help on someone, not all the time."

Will had ran a hand through his hair when a voice spoke up from behind him. "Oh please, William, try to keep your hand out of that for a minute please! You're of no use to me one handed." It was no question to who it was.

Sue Sylvester stood by the coffee machine, raising her eyebrows to stress what she had just said when Will looked at her. She walked over to him, folding her arms.

"You, me, fieldtrip. Now."

"Wha—hold on, Sue," Will exclaimed when she picked up his lunch and tossed it in the trash. "What are you talking about? What fieldtrip?"

"That was a metaphor, William," she returned, narrowing her eyes at the English teacher who frowned in confusion, daring him to tell her she was wrong. "You and I are going to see just how Porcelain's doing."

"Whoa, Sue, it isn't our place to take sides!" Mr. Schue protested.

"Well I don't mind going alone but if you see a new ornament in my office in the shape of Karofsky's head, my alibi is that I was feeding the homeless and by the by, if you mess up that one line so help me I'll take you down with me."

Sue turned on her heel and marched off, leaving the staff staring after her in bewilderment. Will slowly turned back around to face Emma, who was surprisingly still smiling at him. She nodded her head in the direction of the door to indicate that he should follow her. Will's heart sank but all the same he got to his feet and hurriedly followed Sue Sylvester out of McKinley.

**000**

Blaine wasn't eating again. It had only been two days since he'd been back at Dalton, but the Warblers hadn't failed to notice when, at lunch, he did not have anything and sat there at the table, fidgeting and stealing glimpses at the clock. They weren't all entirely oblivious and they understood it was something to do with the endearing 'spy' named Kurt, whose name had been rolling easily off Blaine's tongue like a wave of delicious sugar. After a few failed attempts on Jeff's behalf of offering Blaine some of his lunch, Wes stepped in and allowed the question to drop heavily at the centre of the table.

"Blaine, what's happened?"

Silence fell across the boys and all eyes rotated round to Blaine, who looked up and then back down when he saw everyone staring at him. He muttered something along the lines of nothing. The Warblers stifled their exasperation and remained calm and steady. They'd all seen him at his worst point. He'd been a scared, sheepish student who had appeared out of nowhere one term, who kept to himself and would avoid speaking to people. Gradually he blossomed after being encouraged by David to try out for the Warblers, and he became energetic and practically radiated positivity. But that shadow of the nervous stranger was creeping over Blaine and it roused concern in those who had developed into his closest friends.

"We know it has something to do with Kurt," Nick blurted, yelping as a kick was delivered to him from under the table by an unknown foot.

Blaine felt like he'd been slapped, hard, across the cheek and he went to stand to find two sets of hands touching both of his arms, stopping him and mutely requesting for him to stay. He didn't sit back down but he didn't move either, indicating for someone to continue. David took to this swiftly and neatly.

"Blaine, we're only here to help," he said, analysing everything he said thoroughly before continuing. "We know something happened between yourself and...Kurt. You left campus for two days without so much as a warning and we all know you wouldn't do that for just anyone."

"This sounds more like an intervention to me," Blaine remarked sourly, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment at the last statement that was made.

"There's no intervention here," Trent offered. "Just...just..."

"Just friends worried about you," Jeff completed the sentence that Trent failed to finish.

"Whatever went on," Wes said softly, looking Blaine dead in the eyes. "I'm sure it's fixable if you tried hard enough. All I know is that—I've never seen you so _**crazy**_ about someone before. This isn't just some passing thing and I know you of all people won't let a few harsh words spoil something that's meant so much to you."

Then the Warblers save Blaine discussed Sectionals as if the conversation previously held had never happened. They spoke animatedly as Blaine watched them in amazement, not sure whether to walk away or to take a seat. In the end, he sat back down and accepted a bite of Jeff's sandwich, appreciating just how hungry he was. It took a while longer for him to join in the talk but when he did, all eyes were glued on him.

**000**

"I'm sure you understand why we need you to answer these questions as detailed as possible to ensure we can help your case to the best of our ability," Officer Cray said after Kurt had insisted he couldn't remember much from the night previous.

"He said he doesn't remember anything so he doesn't remember anything, alright?" Burt Hummel barked, chest puffing up as he stood at his child's bedside.

Kurt wanted to fall through the mattress, through the floors and down into the earth where everything was peaceful for once and the raised voices and the prying looks couldn't touch him. At least for a while, then he would return feeling refreshed and ready to do what was asked of him. It wasn't that easy though and he remained sitting in his hospital bed, dizzy and wanting to sleep, with two police officers and his dad in a Mexican standoff, with Finn and Carole standing offside prepared to be tagged in at any given moment to lend a helping hand. Kurt did remember nearly everything that had happened to the finest detail; he could easily recall how he'd felt when he'd seen Karofsky standing in the living-room, that vice-like panic that ensnared him when he'd realised they were alone and no Finn, no Blaine, no dad, no Sue, no one to jump in to save the day. That vulnerability was overwhelming to unearth but he could do it...he just didn't want to currently. Yet he had no choice in the matter. The police officers wanted answers, and they wanted answers now.

"I got home...I skipped Glee Club because I felt sick," Kurt repeated the same lines he'd said the first two times he'd been asked. "I went to make myself a glass of apple juice and when I went back into the living-room he was there. Next thing I know I'm laying on the floor and he's telling me it was my fault...and then he ran off."

"How did you get down to your bedroom?" Officer Bradley piped up, looking up from his notepad over the roof of his glasses.

"Like I said I don't really remember," Kurt lied, stomach twisting as he remembered how he'd panicked about collapsing down the stairs as his knees buckled violently. "And then Finn's talking to me and telling me I'm hurt."

Bradley and Cray turned to one another, communicated something silently, and then turned back to Kurt.

"Now, Mr. Hummel, we are aware it is a touchy subject and if you wish for the others to leave the room that is completely fi—"

"Whatever you ask my son you ask in front of me," Burt interjected firmly. "No more keeping me in the dark, alright?"

The police officers seemed uneasy but knew they couldn't really argue with a livid father.

"We need to know if Dave Karofsky—harmed you in another way," Officer Cray said cautiously. When he received raised eyebrows, he elaborated. "Were you sexually assaulted?"

Kurt's eyes bulged; Carole touched her chest; Finn blinked as if he'd been slapped and Burt seemed to stagger a little. Then everyone was watching Kurt, awaiting an answer that would either fill them with relief or shatter their lives altogether.

"No," Kurt replied honestly. "He didn't. Dave isn't—"

"Are you certain, Mr. Hummel?" Officer Bradley pried. "You don't remember much of the attack so perhaps when you were unconscious..." Kurt was shaking his head frantically. "What do you think fuelled David Karofsky's attack on you?"

"Homophobia," Kurt said his voice frail.

"You have been a victim of various other homophobic assaults at your school," Officer Cray persisted. "But none as violent as this one...David Karofsky must have had more motivation other than that." Kurt flushed.

"I can't say," Kurt whispered before he could stop himself; he hoped with all his might nobody had caught that but when Bradley's pen scratched over pad hastily, he felt like he really was sinking this time.

"Has he threatened you not to tell anybody?" Cray said.

"Is that what he threatened to kill you over, Kurt?" Burt abruptly inquired, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. "What does he have over you?"

"Nothing, Da—"

"No more lies, Kurt. This family was nearly broken apart again because you lied to me," Burt was literally quaking as he pointed a finger at his son, eyes welling up. "This will all be over if you tell them what happened. If you don't, Karofsky will just do this over and over and over again until he gets his wish. _**Please **_Kurt..."

Kurt's chin wobbled and he stared blankly at the stitches on his palm as if it greatly fascinated him. "A while ago—the bullying got worse. I couldn't concentrate—I couldn't go through a day without being terrified. He started threatened to hit me a few times but I-I didn't take any notice. Not for a while anyway. I tried to stand up to him once after he pushed me. I asked him why he was doing what he was doing." _**GET OUT OF MY FACE! **_Tears slid from the corners of his eyes. "He-Dave he...he kissed me."

That sentence devoured everything in the room, breaths and all, and Bradley wasn't writing anymore, pen frozen in mid-stroke. Finn sank down into a chair and Carole put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze; Burt rubbed his face with his hand.

"Dave's gay..." Kurt said quietly. "He doesn't want to be. He blamed me for it, so that's why he was taking it out on me. He was terrified that I'd tell someone, so he said he'd kill me if I told anyone. Please," he looked up at the officers, eyes gleaming. "Please don't tell anyone else that he's gay."

"No worries, Ladyface. He can't stay in Narnia forever playing with the beavers...no pun intended of course, William."

Sue Sylvester had opened the door and stood just behind Bradley with Mr. Schue at her heel, his eyes wide in alarm after just hearing what Kurt had said.

"Excuse me this is a private—" Cray started but never finished as Sue shot him a menacing look, strangling whatever words that were about to follow.

Sue strode over to Kurt, and for an instant he believed he saw pity in her blue eyes that usually seemed so cold and lifeless.

**TBC **

_**Next Chapter: Will Blaine find out and will Karofsky wake up...ever? **_


	12. Blaine

The first thing Dave Karofsky thought when he awoke was that he was a failure. He'd failed at killing himself. He felt aggravated that he couldn't even take the one thing that was supposed to be his own, the one thing he was meant to have complete control over. He'd lost rule with his emotions, and his thoughts and his actions but his life? That was the last thing he could take away from himself and yet he'd even failed at doing that. Dave's eyes opened gradually; unlike Kurt, he didn't see either of his parents at his bedside. He was alone. One thing he hadn't thought over was the consequences he'd have to deal with if he survived. He would've escaped his parents' heartbreak, now he had to face it and deal with it. He had to see how he'd hurt them both, and even worse he'd have to handle the outcome of what he'd done to Kurt. Maybe he'd even have to come out and the beeping next to his ear accelerated as his heart did at that notion.

**000**

Kurt was getting ready to leave the hospital; he'd had to spend two days there under the watchful gaze of Doctor Fitzgerald, numerous nurses and his family. He felt like he had very little privacy anymore, so by going home he hoped he would gain a bit of that back. Kurt reached a new pitch of energy as he rambled on about how nice it'd be to have a real shower and to put on some of his own clothes, begrudgingly noting that he practically hadn't worn any of his own in three days as he'd spent the Thursday in Finn's. He'd only permitted a few visitors; Mercedes was the first person he asked to see and, once she was over the initial shock, they went on as usual. That's what Kurt loved about her; he was aware she'd give him an earful on a later date but for now, she was content just being a good friend and being there for him. Rachel came over a few times too as Finn had invited her. She wasn't as irritating as she was in Glee Club, and Kurt appreciated her company from time to time but wouldn't really bat a lid if she didn't turn up. Mr. Schue had visited twice; once with Sue and the second with Mercedes with cards and flowers from the New Directions, including a hand-made card that was signed 'Lord Tubbington' and was supposedly made by Brittany's cat.

"Karofsky was discharged today," Mercedes said abruptly in the midst of picking up all of Kurt's cards and putting them in a bag for him to take home. She glanced over to see his reaction, but it was as if Kurt hadn't heard her though his face was a shade paler.

"Oh?" Kurt responded mildly after a momentary pause.

"Yeah," Mercedes continued, turning back to the cards to distract herself. "He's been expelled from McKinley and is in police custody...there's a big debate on whether they should charge it as a hate crime."

Kurt nodded. "Is-is it okay if we don't talk about it right now? I don't want to think about it."

Mercedes moved on briskly as if the conversation hadn't ever occurred, and talked half-heartedly about Sectionals and what was going to be done with Kurt's solo, asking whether he'd be back within the week. Kurt wanted to perform, he truly did. But all the same, he didn't want to go back to that school. Not yet. Not while the Karofsky situation was still fresh in everybody's minds. His dad had told him the sooner he went back, the easier it would be. Kurt wasn't entirely convinced although he promised to go back the week after next, which seemed to set Burt's mind at ease.

Finn and Rachel came in, she with a new bouquet of white and pink gladiolus flowers and he with a clean change of clothes as ordered. He wasn't sure what Kurt would want but had grabbed what appeared to be part of an outfit he remembered his stepbrother wearing recently.

"Rachel, if you buy me anymore flowers I'll become one," Kurt remarked playfully, graciously accepting them and a peck on the cheek.

"Here dude," Finn stepped up, placing the folded items of clothing on Kurt's lap. "I wasn't sure what to pick up but—yeah. Hope those are okay." When Kurt put a hand to his mouth, Finn's first thought was that he'd done something to unearth bad memories, and he faltered. "I-I'll take them back if—"

"I'm so proud," Kurt sniffed, beaming up at his stepbrother.

Mercedes laughed at Finn's startled yet relieved expression and Rachel went on her tiptoes to press a doting kiss to his chin. The two girls excused themselves as Kurt stood up to get changed, promising to bring back up sodas for the four of them. Finn felt uncomfortable staying in the room as Kurt undressed but he'd been told to by Burt just in case he fell or hurt himself or, in the worst case scenario, couldn't.

Kurt struggled with almost every item of clothing he was applying, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to seem weak and pathetic as he tried to pull the long-sleeved black-and-white striped shirt over his head followed by the grey above the knee woolly cardigan. Kurt subconsciously stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on pulling up his pants; Finn groaned in exasperation and went over, moving Kurt's good hand out of the way and, with great embarrassment, pulled them up. Kurt was alarmingly red when it was all over and done with and they exchanged a look that swore never to speak of it to anyone else.

Finn had grown accustomed to Kurt's injuries, from his shoulder, to his hand to his back that was littered with bruises and scratches, yet still seeing him struggle to even do something as simple as dressing himself was a hard pill to swallow. By the time Mercedes and Rachel came back, Kurt was fully dressed and browsing through some of the cards he'd received and Finn was packing up the last of the stuff.

"Mmm-mmm," Mercedes said in approval. "That's more like it. Seeing my man back in his own clothes just made my day."

Kurt smiled warmly, admiring his own appearance. "I feel ten-times cleaner right now," he laughed. "Even though I haven't really had a shower since Thursday..."

"Dang boy, that stink was you?" Mercedes teased, handing him a diet coke.

The four friends talked enthusiastically until Burt and Carole arrived with Doctor Fitzgerald to take Kurt home. Seeing his son back in his usual attire, though it was a silly thing to get emotional about, made Burt Hummel feel a sense of normality again in their family life.

"Are we feeling as good as we look today, Kurt?" Doctor Fitzgerald asked. Yeah, Finn still didn't like him. He just sounded creepy.

"Yes," Kurt replied earnestly, literally glowing from all of the compliments. "Can't feel a thing, doc."

Doctor Fitzgerald nodded understandingly. "Very good, very good; now, Kurt, I want you to have regular checkups, once a week at the least for a month and then we can hopefully take off that sling and remove the stitches. Also, I've signed you up with the permission of your father for you to attend weekly sessions with the hospital psychiatrist to aid you with any mental or emotional scarring." When Kurt's face fell and he looked to his father pleadingly, Fitzgerald went on. "Only until you and Doctor Kale feel you are ready to stop going. We just want to help you recover in every way possible. Your first appointment is Tuesday at eleven o'clock."

After prescribing medication to help with the pain and shaking hands with Burt, Doctor Fitzgerald left the room. As soon as the door shut, Kurt opened his mouth to protest but Burt only had to raise an eyebrow for Kurt to close it again, pouting childishly. However, that wouldn't dampen his good mood as he was discharged, feeling a sense of liberation as they pulled out of the parking lot and drove away, leaving it behind hopefully for good. Once they'd dropped Mercedes and Rachel off, they were on the way home.

Kurt didn't know what to expect when he stepped through the front door; for some reason he half expected all of the mess to still be on the floor and was oddly surprised to see it was tidy, a new carpet on the living-room floor. He involuntarily shuddered when he stood in the spot he believed Karofsky had that night, and his stomach churned when he poured himself a drink later on in the day, fleetingly wondering if when he went back into the living room he'd walk through to find Karofsky there. Kurt wasn't aware that he was trembling until Finn had lightly touched his arm, steadying it as he'd spilled some of his water on the floor.

"Dude, what's up?" Finn had a vague idea what was wrong though he didn't say anything in case he was completely off the mark.

"Nothing," Kurt had mumbled, setting down his glass and drying his hands on his cardigan, an uncharacteristic move on his behalf.

Kurt found himself dreading the night, and made excuses to stay up later and later, claiming he had homework to do even though he had a full week ahead of him to finish it up, saying he wanted to watch a movie with his dad and Carole even though it was a horror and made him even more shaky and on edge. Finn stayed up for most of the night with him, but, at two o'clock in the morning, grumbled that he had school and, even though Kurt had tried to persuade him to take the day off, went to bed. Soon it was pitch black and everyone was sound asleep, all except Kurt. He lay in his bed on his back, waiting for the pain medication to kick in and numb him over so he could sleep. It felt as if it hadn't as the fear prickled beneath his skin and gnawed at him, too loud to be at all subdued by medication. Kurt would go to take an extra pill to help kick it into gear but he was too scared to get up to go to the bathroom by himself. He was only somewhat soothed by Finn's snoring, and it served as a reminder that he was truly alone.

It seemed like he'd been awake for hours, and he didn't even notice that he'd finally drifted off. The dream was so vivid it appeared real. He dreamt he was lying in his bed, unable to sleep, and then a creak at the top of the stairs sounded. He tried to sit up but could not move; the only thing that was moving was the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breathing picked up pace. There came a dull thud, the sound of a foot taking a step. Kurt went to call for Finn, to tell him to wake up. He couldn't do that either, like his teeth had been super-glued together and he couldn't open his jaw no matter how desperately he tried. The footsteps grew closer and then he saw a dark figure. The figure was broad and leaned over the banister, looking at him, seeing him. It moved slowly down the stairs, still leaning out, the only noises being the footsteps and the whisper of hands trailing down the banister. When it reached the bottom, it stopped for a moment just looking on, eyeless. Then, when it moved towards him, it began to say something that was too quiet and low for Kurt to understand. It grew louder and louder as the figure got closer and closer, and Kurt could only stare helplessly, his heart sprinting, trying to escape if his body could not. Eventually the word that was being said became coherent.

_**Faggot...faggot...faggot...faggot...FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT! FAGGOT!**_

The shadow was on Kurt then, one instant at his side, the next on his chest, pressing down with all its might, bellowing the words louder and louder and louder and louder until it was practically ringing in Kurt's ears. Kurt froze as a face came into view. He wasn't surprised, he wasn't shocked, and it was as if he'd known. Karofsky was looking down at him and then was kissing him so hard it felt as if he was trying to merge with Kurt. Kurt could finally scream and he did as shrilly as he possibly could.

Kurt's eyes snapped open when he realised the scream had actually left his mouth and let out another when he saw someone standing at his bedside. Tears fled from his eyes and he recoiled only to be enveloped in someone's arms. Kurt tried to weakly push whoever it was away, but found it useless. It was only when the familiar scent of peppermint hit him did he realise it was his dad. Kurt proceeded to sob into his father's chest, clutching the material of his shirt as if his life depended on it. He was quaking in his bed, drenched with sweat, knees knocking painfully together, breaths coming in frantically and not fulfilling his lungs.

"Shhh, it's okay," Burt said softly over and over again, stroking Kurt's heaving back.

Finn was sitting up in his bed, eyes wide in alarm at what had just taken place. The lights in the room were turned on and Carole stood at the foot of the stairs, hands clapped to her mouth and tears in her eyes. Burt gently pried Kurt's hands away from his shirt, stretching the fingers out from the clammy palm to see blood trickling down Kurt's arm having pulled open the stitches. Kurt whimpered several apologies before quieting and drifting to sleep. Burt lifted his son up and put him in the car to take him to the hospital, kissing Carole on the cheek and telling her that he'd be back soon.

**000**

There was no going back once he'd talked himself into it. Blaine had felt at a loss over the weekend, declining every suggestion he received to go see a movie or to go out for dinner or just out for shopping. His parents were taken aback but didn't mention anything. They had a policy; if they didn't ask, they didn't have to get involved and they weren't quite ready to get involved in that part of their son's life. They knew it was a boy issue; they'd seen Blaine go through the same thing a few times before though not this badly. Still, they worked their days around him, popping in every once in a while to offer him something to eat. Blaine had a lot of time to himself to think about things; at first he resisted the urge to think about Kurt at all though in the end it was_** all**_ he could think about. He wanted to see him, to check up on him, to see if the Karofsky situation had worsened. That was what had sealed the deal; the thought of Karofsky doing something to Kurt was enough for Blaine to come to a decision. He was going to call in sick, and go to McKinley.

It was like the date all over again, awaiting Kurt's presence nervously. Thoughts whizzed through his minds like bubbles in a shaken up bottle as he stood to one side as a thick stream of students poured past him, paying him very little heed. Blaine waited until he spotted a familiar face, which took quite some time. Rachel Berry seemed to stick out with her bright white tights and her knee length brightly coloured coat with a matching hat and purse. Blaine recalled seeing Kurt speaking to her before the two of them had parted for lunch, though he couldn't really remember her name as he'd been too caught up in how desperately he'd wanted to hold Kurt right at that moment. Blaine inhaled deeply and stepped forward.

"Excuse me?" he called, her big dark brown eyes turning onto him and she smiled coyly. "Do you know where I can find Kurt Hummel?" he hadn't said the name aloud for so long and he still felt like he'd just planted a delicious sweet on the tip of his tongue, the familiarity of it spreading throughout his entire body. Though he was smiling, Rachel was frowning.

"You're Blaine right?" she said, the corners of her mouth turning downwards. When he nodded, she looked uneasy. "Y-you haven't heard anything?"

Blaine's heart tripped over the sentence because his mind leapt to Karofsky. He licked his dry lips, hoarsely answering her. "Heard what?"

Rachel appeared greatly sympathetic as she touched his arm and led him to one side, ensuring they were alone when she told him, blushing fiercely. As she spoke the words, she witnessed the emotions running through Blaine's face, and her voice turned quieter as she went on.

Blaine's jaw was literally hanging open and he didn't shut it for a while, hazel eyes clinging to Rachel's before dropping to the ground like they were committing suicide. When his top lip greeted his bottom one once more, he felt his chin wobble.

"C-Can you take me to see him?" he said eventually, meeting her gaze once more.

Rachel hadn't ever in her recollection skipped school before let alone Glee Club but the way Blaine was looking at her, made her forget that she'd even had lessons to go to. She just saw them as two people, standing in a crowd and he was feeling tremendous pain and guilt like everyone did when they'd heard the news. So she didn't worry about her attendance for a split second when she nodded and took him over to her car.

**000**

Kurt was watching the television in the living-room when the front door knocked. He exhaled and called for Finn to get it, too tired to get up to do it himself. His body felt like it had become one whole bruise and a pulse of dull pain was beating, pumping it through his entire system. The skin underneath both his eyes was sore and a light grey, a giveaway that he'd had a difficult night. When the door knocked again, Kurt groaned loudly and got to his feet, checking to see if Finn was coming to see his stepbrother was nowhere to be seen, and then opened the door. An audible gasp slipped from his parted lips when his eyes locked with a set of hazel.

He wasn't sure why but his initial instinct was to shut the door quickly and run away. As if reading his mind, Blaine stepped forward so he was practically inches away from Kurt, hands rising but not touching. It was like he was terrified of touching Kurt in case he broke him, in case he cracked and crumpled to the floor into dust. Kurt stared with round eyes, jaw clenched to prevent it from hanging open in shock; his heart racing in his chest behind his ribcage, pounding on it, begging to be let free. Blaine's fingertips finally connected with Kurt's cheek; the touch was innocent, and if it had been done by any other person, it wouldn't have scorched his skin, wouldn't have felt like it was branding him as Blaine's. Blaine stroked Kurt's cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Kurt couldn't handle it. He wanted it more than anything but all at once, he didn't quite understand. He'd chased Blaine away, he'd said some spiteful things, and he'd blamed him for what had happened to Finn, to the car, to them. So why was he standing there like none of it had ever happened? Like when they'd parted ways, he had full intention of returning. They both knew that when Kurt had told Blaine to leave him alone, and Blaine had left, he didn't want to go back and didn't mean to. As far as they'd both been concerned at that moment that was their permanent goodbye.

"What are you doing?" Kurt said breathily, shaking his head back and fall, the movement causing a tear to skid down his face.

"What I want to do," Blaine replied. He brushed the tear away with his thumb and Kurt shut his eyes.

"I don't deserve this, Blaine," Kurt sniffed, opening his eyes to look into Blaine's, touching the other's hand and moving it away.

"Just give me a few minutes, please," Blaine implored him. "That's all I ask."

**~ Blaine ~**

Blaine was fourteen when he heard the term 'homosexual' and he identified with it immediately. It connected to his life like wires, and lit him up for the first time ever in his short life. It made him make sense and that was what he'd always lacked. He'd never felt as if he'd really belonged anywhere, especially as he got older and his friends became interested in girls. That was bizarre to him, as one minute they couldn't care less and the next they weren't spending time with him because they were hanging out with their 'girlfriends' instead. Blaine would always turn away whenever one of his friends brought in a pornographic magazine and wouldn't feel the urge that they did to go searching for nude pictures or even just sending out silly little love notes. He didn't feel the need to, but when his friends picked up on the fact he wasn't interested, he felt he had to just to avoid been teased.

His first experience with a boy was when he was fifteen. He had been invited to a party by a friend who was nervous since he'd been invited by a girl he liked and knew no one else. Blaine was reluctant but was persuaded, promising himself he'd leave after ten if he wasn't enjoying himself. The start of the party was awkward; as he walked into the room he saw a pool of unfamiliar faces looking up at him through a mist of smoke, bottles of alcohol in their hands. Blaine didn't smoke and he didn't drink; the parties he usually went to at that age consisted of neither and instead were full of junk food and bad television shows and cheesy movies. So straight away he was uncomfortable.

Blaine had made his friend swear not to leave him, though that promise was broken the instant the girl asked him to go upstairs with him. Blaine was left alone, and hastily decided his friend no longer required his company and picked up his jacket to leave. A boy was standing in front of him, a boy with dark eyes and hair who had a great smile, which he flashed at Blaine when their eyes first brushed. He introduced himself as Jamie and asked why Blaine was leaving so early. Blaine had stuttered that he had to go meet some friends and Jamie seemingly saw right through him, and asked him to stay just a while longer to keep him company. Blaine hesitated yet couldn't bring himself to refuse; he accepted a bottle of alcohol with no real intent of drinking any.

As the conversation between himself and Jamie began to flow, as did the drink down Blaine's throat. It felt like it was blistering his stomach, and when he told Jamie this, he'd laughed and assured him that meant the alcohol was doing its job. Blaine drank and drank, starting to feel its effects and he talked louder and more, speaking to anyone who came up to him like he'd known them for years. Jamie told him to come with him outside so he could light a cigarette; Blaine hadn't thought it odd despite people was smoking in the house. The pair went out into the cool November night, the muffled sounds of the party behind them like an entirely separate one to theirs now.

"I thought you came out here to smoke," Blaine remembered saying.

Jamie had just looked at him, hands not even going for his pockets. Instead they went to Blaine's face and pulled him in for a kiss. It was like smoke was being filtered through Blaine's mouth and he felt initially disgusted but as he focused on the warmth of the other boy's lips, the supple softness of them, the slickness of his tongue against his. Blaine was stunned and yet it didn't feel out of place. In fact, it felt like he'd done it a thousand times before. It was like stepping into a pair of brand new shoes, and they were comfortable and fit him just right. He'd kissed Jamie hungrily, and the roaming of hands commenced, exploring and navigating around these newfound lands. When the kiss ended, Jamie then lit up his cigarette.

Blaine never saw Jamie or anyone else from that party again; after their kiss, Jamie had went back inside and left, ignoring Blaine when he asked where he was going. Blaine at the time thought he'd done something wrong, but looking back now realised that Jamie was ashamed of what he'd done. Blaine wasn't really ashamed; he was more excited that it had happened. He wanted to tell people but knew he had to be selective over who he confided this to, and settled on his closest friend, the guy who had invited him to the party in the first place. When he told him, his friend had frozen up and was lost for words, just sitting there with his mouth and eyes wide open. His friend had told him not to worry about it and that it would stay between them. It didn't.

Next thing Blaine knew, people at school were treating him differently. He'd approach his group of friends, oblivious to the words that had been exchanged between them behind his back, trying to talk and act as he usually would but would have no feedback. They all looked uncomfortable with him being there, and, when lunch came around, Blaine went to the spot where they always sat to find it empty with no sign of any of them. He'd angrily demanded what their problem was the next time he crossed their paths, insisting they tell him what he'd done wrong. One of them spoke up eventually and their words still cut Blaine sharply.

"Blaine...we know..." he'd said, nudged on by an elbow in the ribs by one of the others. "We know you're gay and we don't want to be around you anymore."

Blaine was astounded and stung. He wasn't even entirely sure he was gay; he'd kissed a boy...that was all. He hadn't had sex with a guy or even been in a relationship with one, and even if he had how did that affect his personality? What part of him changed? Before they knew, they didn't mind being his friend; they liked him and his company. Just a kiss, a simple kiss, had cost him his friends.

He told himself he didn't care and that they weren't worth his time anyway but lunchtimes and classes soon became a misery as he'd sit at a desk and in the canteen alone, sticking out terribly in a room full of people in groups. Word got out past his friends and flooded throughout the school, and he had no control over it whatsoever. Blaine felt as if he had no privacy anymore and felt bare and unclothed whenever he was at school. It didn't improve when his parents kept inquiring why he hadn't had any of his 'friends' over in a while and why he never went out on weekends anymore; Blaine set their minds at ease by lying about everyone being either grounded, at family outings or studying for exams. And his parents bought it.

Blaine's life was worsened after the Christmas holidays when it transitioned from being outright ignored to being bullied. It was like over that period of time away from school, the students realised they now had a reason to be cruel and have a new victim. A petition circulated the school stating that all 'homos' should have a changing-room of their own or not be allowed to do PE at all. Those petitions found their way into Blaine's locker and even once through his front door amongst the rest of the mail; he was lucky he'd intercepted it before his parents saw. Then it turned into threats; a boy who he'd been partnered up with by the teacher for science warned him that if he so much as looked at him he would stab him. That boy went on to follow Blaine home one day after school with a group of his friends, shouting abuse the entire way home. Blaine refused to let them see them see him cry, refused to let them see how badly it hurt him.

But all of those emotions being bottled up like that were making things worse. Blaine constantly found himself on the verge of a breakdown over any little thing; he would explode with a fit of rage at his parents, would kick things over, would punch walls, and gradually, he would cut himself. The first time he did that was when someone had broken into his locker and had tipped all of its contents into one of the school toilets. Blaine had been so angry, so distraught though he couldn't vocalise any of it, that when he got home he went straight into the medicine cabinet, found some of his dad's razors, and dug it into his thigh. He didn't recall doing it, and only realised what he'd done when blood swelled within the crevice of the wound. Blaine was repulsed by what he'd done yet it gave him instant relief. It was like he was screaming at the top of his lungs whenever he did it, so he did it again and again and again.

Things gradually improved for Blaine; a new boy transferred and he sat by Blaine for most if not all of his classes. The friendship was one based mostly on coping with the same thing, going through the same ordeal. It felt better to have someone who understood and identified with what was happening, and Blaine felt happier. There was a dance coming up and even though Blaine had no original intent on going but his friend had looked at him with so much excitement the night he mentioned it, it was difficult to reject the offer.

"Let's piss everyone off!" his friend had declared, a grin splitting across his face. "Let's show them that it doesn't matter who you go to prom with, it doesn't matter what they say 'cos we're still going to have a good time!"

Blaine had put his face in his hands. "They'll kick the crap out of us..."

"Not in front of all the teachers they won't. My dad will carpool us there and back, so no way could they get us in between that. Plus, the school year's almost over. When summer comes to an end, they'll have gotten over it and will have found new things to be pissed at us about. Why deny us what every other teenager has the right to?"

Blaine knew it was a bad idea, and that it was bound to take a turn for the once. However, things couldn't get any worse. He and his friend were wrong though and they never anticipated being attacked whilst waiting for his dad. Three guys that were three times their size beat the living crap out of them. His friend got it the worst because he was fighting back; Blaine just lay there, accepting every kick and every punch because he knew he deserved it.

When he went home littered with bruises, he had no other option but to come out there and then. His dad said he already knew; his mom didn't speak to him for the next few days. Blaine didn't go back to school for the rest of that year and said he'd never go back. His parents had first rejected the idea, but their minds changed when they found a suicide note written by their son amidst some of his school notes. Whether or not he intended them to find them or even go through with it didn't matter. His parents finally heard him and enrolled him in Dalton Academy.

**TBC**


	13. The Will To Fight

**The reason or rather the excuse to why I haven't been uploading as of late is due to the fact that I have just had my final college exams to study for, but they finished yesterday (June 21****st****) so I'm thriving off of the joy of being utterly free. Hope you enjoy. **

Kurt had listened intently to what Blaine was saying to him; they had switched location to the kitchen to allow themselves some privacy though it was highly likely Rachel and Finn were sitting in absolute silence in the next room in an attempt to catch what words were being exchanged. Kurt was highly conscious of this at the start but as Blaine spoke, he found he no longer cared if his step-brother and his girlfriend were listening in. In fact, the world seemed to sink around them, leaving the two boys a small island where only the two of them mattered.

He noted how Blaine's voice grew thicker as he spoke, how he took more pauses as he explained how they had treated him. His eyes seemed to shine in the light when he mentioned how he had taken the beating, believing that he deserved it. Kurt's own stomach clenched at that, which delivered a nudge of pain against his ribcage though he didn't care. His scepticism and the wall he had fenced around himself, was dropped. He hadn't been expecting such a heartfelt confession, let alone all of Blaine's secrets being tipped out into the still space between them.

"It took me a while to get used to Dalton," Blaine continued after an exactly two minute pause, in which Kurt waited with great patience and understanding. "I was still flinching at every locker slam and I was still looking over my shoulder to see if I was being followed..." he swallowed. "It was lonely at first. I had no one, no friends, no one to sit with...I felt totally isolated. It felt like no matter where I went, I would be by myself. And then one day, I stopped checking. I stopped—I stopped anticipating the worst in people. I opened up and things went from terrible to fine, and then from fine to good and so on." He licked his lips. "When you said I didn't get it, it hurt, Kurt. It hurt because it was how I felt back then. That no one could possibly understand, that no one could relate to me or what I was going through. You were shutting me out and I got scared again. I ran. I ran because I couldn't stand being shut out by you. No matter if it was my own fault or otherwise, being shut out by you meant that I'd lost something really important to me. I really, really care about you and the concept that I could do nothing for you, that you were turning me away, just gave me a lump in my throat. I am just _**so **_crazy about you."

"You barely know me..." Kurt whispered hoarsely, denying the tears in his eyes permission to tip and fall.

Blaine nodded slowly. "I know," he replied softly and then he stepped forward. "But that's what makes this so special."

Kurt frowned, perplexed. "What makes this so special, Blaine?"

"That I could be so crazy about someone who I barely know," Blaine gave a small faint smile. "I think that's pretty special. Don't you? Some people, they have to spend months, _**years**_ even to feel this way about a person...and I feel this way after a few months of you being in my life. I'm not saying I'm in love with you, Kurt. But I'm in love with the idea of falling for you, with waking up next to you, with just being by your side for as long as you'll have me. I'm in love with the idea of waiting to fall for you, and I honestly think I will..."

Kurt was profoundly speechless. His entire vocabulary was driven out by utter shock and left his mouth absolutely deserted. He inhaled a breath that hitched sharply, so much so that it was audible to the pair of them. Blaine himself was stunned by his own words, how they had poured from his heart as easily as water without having to even stop for a second to think about what he was trying to say. It had departed easily from him like rain or snow and it beautifully layered the atmosphere around them. He wanted to kiss Kurt, to capture those lips and never let them escape again. His chest felt like it was being pressed on as he breathed in; it felt tight but in a good way. Blaine didn't ever wish to replace that feeling for anything else in the world.

"Why are you saying all of this?" Kurt eventually found the words even though they came out rigid and awkward. "I'm the one that said all of those things; I'm the one that should be apologising..." Blaine just looked at him evenly and took one final step closer.

"I accept your apology."

Kurt blinked. "I haven't even apologised..."

"You were sorry the way you looked at me before I left. You've apologised to me every time you've looked at me."

Kurt was, once again, rendered thunderstruck and could only express how he felt by walking forwards, practically into Blaine's open arms. Blaine enveloped Kurt into an embrace, an envelope around a letter that was full of words that could not be spoken aloud. They were each read, re-read and adored by him.

**000**

Kurt tried not to allow the alarm to claim his face, despite the fact it was too late as his face was bright red, as Blaine unbuttoned his shirt and carefully peeled it from his body. Kurt grimaced as he moved his shoulders backwards slightly to permit the item of clothing to be removed, and Blaine, being as attentive as he was, noticed and gently rested his forehead against Kurt's temple, discarding it to the ground. Once the sound of it crumpling down on the floor sounded, Blaine pulled away and brushed his fingertips lightly over the other's chest. He took in the bruises, his hazel eyes soaking them in and not giving consent to a single drop to slip by him. Kurt's shoulder was swollen, which had been explained earlier by the fact it was somewhat sprained and was to be worn in a sling for a few hours a day. Bruises darkened his ribcage like a lingering shadow that never moved. In the centre of his palm, a long cut lay like a dark red bridge with the thin black lines that were keeping it sealed. There actually wasn't a lot of untouched pale skin remaining, as a majority of his torso was blotted with the marks of Karofsky's self-loathing.

Oddly enough, Blaine wasn't as furious as he thought he would be once he learned Kurt had been hurt. He was expecting to feel the urge to be reckless and make things even, to just bring his fist to Karofsky's jaw to make him feel a fraction of what he had done. Though that feeling wasn't entirely vacant, he was more upset than anything else. His jaw clenched as he ghosted his fingertips over the side of Kurt's neck, unable to shift his eyes from the damage inflicted on the boy in front of him. Kurt felt the upmost need the shatter the silence.

"It's not as bad as it looks, you know," he offered feebly. "It could have been a lot worse..." he wanted to bite of his own tongue as punishment for bringing that haunting notion into Blaine's consciousness; the notion that Karofsky could have taken it to the next level...

Blaine shut his eyes and nodded. "I know," his throat was constricted so it came out as a small croak.

Kurt and Blaine stood there for a while longer, with Blaine's fingers soothing over Kurt's skin light as moth wings.

"You know, it doesn't even hurt that bad," Kurt tried a second time even though it was just as meek and half-hearted as the last. He noticed that Blaine's eyes were clouded, and he felt his cheeks burn when he realised that Blaine was on the brink of tears. Kurt, trying to spare the Dalton student the embarrassment, feigned ignorance and simply moulded Blaine's hand with his own that was lying flat against his chest.

Blaine looked up and smiled uneasily. "I'm just glad things—aren't any worse."

Kurt wasn't certain if this was entirely true. Karofsky could be let out; he could have the option to inflict real harm if he really wanted. The nightmare he had had the other night remained in his conscious mind and it sent jittery, strong shivers skidding down his spine whenever he thought about it. But, for now, he shook it off and he tried his best to focus on what was before him. Kurt, for once, considered himself lucky. He had been forgiven by one of the most important people in his life. Their relationship, once again, had not been clarified but it was somehow understood by the pair of them. They were going to take things slow, they weren't exactly boyfriends as of yet, though something powerful inside of Kurt whispered over and over again that they would be in the close or distant future.

**000**

"David..."

Dave wanted nothing more than to abandon that name altogether, to be someone else and to look down with everyone else on the one named David Karofsky. Nothing in the world, however, could grant him such a thing and he was stuck with that name. He felt humiliated, sitting there across the table from the two officers, Cray and Bradley, who were asking him a range of questions relating to the incident, to his childhood, to everything about him. He didn't want to answer them, he wanted to be left alone and hoped that the least he said, the sooner he could get his wish. This wasn't the case.

"David, please. We want to know as much as possible," Cray was blatantly adopting the role of good cop, reaching a comforting hand across the table to stop inches away from Dave's. "Why did you do what you did?"

"You know the story," Dave said monotonically, huffing a sigh and leaning back in his seat away from them. "Hummel's a...out and proud homo. I don't like him and," he puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head. "I lost it. I took things too far I get that."

"Then why did you try to kill yourself?" Cray pried. "If it was only an act of aggression, why didn't you just step forward? Why did you attempt suicide?"

"I didn't want to disappoint my parents," this was kind of the truth and it slipped steadily from his lips. "I got scared, I was freaked out. I had been...um drinking before I went over there. I wasn't thinking straight." He cringed at the use of that word. "When I realised what I'd done, I panicked and just did what I thought I should have done."

Cray and Bradley exchanged glances. Bradley piped up. "That's interesting, David, because there was no trace of alcohol in your system. The hospital tested you for it to see if you consumed the pills with any alcoholic fluids but found nothing. It stays in your body for twenty-four hours and, reportedly, you attempted suicide a mere hour after leaving the Hummel residence. It should have showed up on the tests."

Dave's blood turned cold like pure snow was lying in his veins. The colour fell from his face as if it had fainted and his heart felt as if it was punching him hard, yelling 'IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT' with every pump. He swallowed hard and shrugged, dropping his gaze down to his feet to avoid their questioning looks.

"David...what was your motive for attacking Mr. Hummel?" Cray asked after an elongated pause. "You claim it was simply a homophobic attack, but surely there was something else?"

"Nope. Nothing at all." Karofsky whispered, not looking up.

Cray glimpsed over at Bradley, who nodded shortly and asked the question they were apprehensive to bring up. What Kurt Hummel had told them was still fresh in their minds like an open wound that wouldn't heal until the object embedded in it was removed. They wanted to believe him, but they had to hear it from Dave Karofsky himself in order to clarify.

"David. Were...are you...sexually attracted to Kurt Hummel?"

Dave's entire world lurched and, without reconsidering, he bolted up onto his feet, his face beetroot red, fists clenched tightly, eyes bulging. Cray and Bradley stood up too, Cray holding up both hands and Bradley ready to snap into bad guy mode if needed.

"I'M NOT A QUEER!" Dave boomed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he put his hands behind his head in frustration, turning away from them both.

"N-no one's saying you are, David," Cray offered, at a loss.

"David, calm down and answer the question," Bradley pressed, discarding the look he was getting from his partner. "Are you or are you not sexually attracted to Kurt Hummel?"

Dave rounded on the officers, literally shaking with hardly suppressed rage. He stabbed an accusing finger at Bradley, jaw tight as the beads of tears trickled down his cheeks. "You listen to me," he said, his voice fragile and low. "I don't know what that...I don't know what he's told you, but I do know that I am not gay. He came on to me and I didn't like it."

Bradley frowned. "How do you mean? Did he sexually harass you?"

Dave was at a loss but ploughed on. "All the guys at our school were uncomfortable around him. He even had a thing for his stepbrother. It's sick. He—he followed me into the changing rooms once."

"Did he do anything to you?" Cray inquired softly.

"He kissed me," Dave said, his voice cracking as he did so.

**000**

Kurt and Blaine had been lying together on the sofa in the living room watching '_**Bride Wars**_', an awful movie that neither of them were particularly interested in but it was the only watchable thing on, when Burt and Carole had returned home. Burt had walked in on Rachel and Finn often, seeing them in compromising positions where they've been kissing or cuddling prior to him turning up but he wasn't entirely expecting to see his son shooting up with a blush on his cheeks followed by a boy sitting upright next to him so soon. It hadn't even crossed his mind that someday he may walk in to find his son kissing a boy and, even though Kurt and Blaine had only been watching a film together, it was short of a wakeup call for Burt.

Burt blinked dumbly for a moment, his eyes glued to Kurt's, his little boy's, and then he shifted over to the kid next to him, who was scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Burt was awoken by a nudge in the side that was delivered by Carole, and he shuffled from foot to foot as he spoke.

"Uh, Kurt," was all he could manage.

"Hey, Dad," Kurt greeted breathily. "This...this is Blaine Anderson. From Dalton Academy." Blaine raised a hand gingerly in a still wave.

"Yeah we er...we met briefly before," Burt said, heat crawling up the nape of his neck. He distracted himself by removing his baseball cap and hanging it up.

An awkward silence kidnapped the air and everyone felt engulfed by it, apart from Carole who was trying her hardest to restrain a wide grin that was on the verge of splitting across her beautiful rosy face. Kurt had never felt such shock upon seeing his Dad; it was like he had been caught in the act of something even though he had nothing to be feeling guilty about. He and Blaine hadn't been doing anything. They had only somewhat cuddled absent-mindedly, even though it had caused a riot to go off in Kurt's chest. Blaine didn't get why Kurt was so embarrassed, but he didn't quite know what to say to ease the tension. He didn't feel it was his place. Carole finally broke the silence by clapping her hands together.

"I'm going to get dinner on. Blaine...is it Blaine?" she said hurriedly. "You're staying for dinner honey."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to intrude..." Blaine began but was interrupted, not by Carole but by Burt.

"No, you're staying," Burt interjected, the tips of his ears scarlet. "as long as you have no objection to spaghetti."

Blaine couldn't hold back the smile that tilted up the corners of his lips. "None at all, Mr. Hummel."

Burt nodded, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets. "Kurt, go help Carole in the kitchen. Show Blaine how great your garlic bread is."

Kurt frowned slightly, cast Blaine a confused look and then did as he was told, heading off to the kitchen with Carole who linked her arm with his the instant they were close enough. Burt and Blaine stared at one another anxiously, not speaking for a minute or two. Gradually, Burt spoke up.

"Kurt...he's a great kid, you know..."

"Yeah he is..."

"Look, I don't wanna get all cliché here with you, Blaine. But I gotta be honest." Burt sank down into his armchair that was next to the sofa where Blaine was sitting. "Kurt means the world to me. He was all I had for a long time. I know I got Carole and Finn now, I don't dispute that but...Kurt is still my top priority. I just can't stand to see him get hurt again. I'm not gonna be impractical and demand that you never hurt him, 'cos it's likely you will, intentional or otherwise, and he will hurt you too. That's what relationships are all about, right? I just...I want you to be something good for him right now. I want you to be good to him, Blaine. Kurt he er...he deserves something good, someone else other than me, you know? He needs somebody and if that's somebody's you, I will do nothing but support him and you. Just, if you do hurt my son, make sure it's unintentional."

Blaine bit his tongue as he didn't want anything clumsy to trip out over his tongue and fall flat onto the already awkward atmosphere. He thought of a range of things he could say in response, a simple 'I promise' may suffice yet it didn't seem appropriate so he remained silent, raking over every word in his diction in order to assemble together a reasonable reply. Blaine glimpsed upwards without really meaning to and his eyes immediately locked on the form of Kurt in the kitchen. Kurt stood next to Carole, flicking through the pages of a cookbook and stealing glances over the pages to check on how Blaine was doing. Their eyes met and for a moment, Blaine felt his heart swell in his chest like a balloon being filled with oxygen, and it drifted up to his throat and constricted it, not really allowing him to breathe.

A few months ago, their eyes had met on a staircase. Kurt had nervously called out to him. It had happened by pure chance. If Blaine hadn't have been late to the Warbler performance, if he hadn't have been the one in front of Kurt that day, they probably wouldn't have met. That caused sudden fear to strike through Blaine, but it dimmed as he reassured himself that it had in fact happened. Blaine couldn't really take his eyes away from the boy behind him, and only did so to shake hands with him. They were soft, he'd noticed. In that split second when he first turned around, when they first gazed at one another, Blaine had felt as if he'd been jabbed sharply in the side. As time went on and they grew closer, he could still feel it though never really thought it over. He didn't think about falling in love, he didn't think about becoming more than just friends. Blaine felt an urge to be with Kurt, and he fooled himself into believing that the reason was to be a sort of guide for him, to help him out of a situation that was similar to his own experience. He couldn't believe the reason he'd realised was through the concept of ever losing him, of ever finding out something bad had happened to Kurt. Blaine would have preferred to have found out a different way, but it was a strong enough wakeup call and it had done the trick. The idea of ever being a thorn in Kurt's life, of ever being a source of pain to him, made Blaine uncomfortable and was possibly the reason he'd ignored the jab in his side for so long. He didn't want to be the reason Kurt went home crying, he didn't want to be the one responsible for Kurt's first heartbreak. Blaine didn't want to risk being idiotic, being reckless and doing something as stupid as cheating or lying. But in that sense, he considered himself somewhat selfish. Blaine wanted to be with Kurt, regardless of the turnout. He would rather not hurt him, would rather Kurt be forever happy, but that was impractical. Kurt would have to experience heartache and pain, no matter how much it hurt Blaine, and he wouldn't want anyone who was blind to just how special and important Kurt was to inflict such pain.

Blaine just wanted to share something with Kurt, something strong and beautiful. And if it ended badly, that was how it was meant to be.

Kurt gave a warm smile and then cast his eyes back to Carole, nodding as if he'd been listening to her all along.

"I don't want to ever hurt him..." Blaine murmured distantly. "In a way it is under my control, though in reality I have no control. If one day Kurt turns around to me and tells me to go, then that's how it has to be. I'm not saying I'd be okay with that, I'd be lying if I said that. I know deep down I'd be willing to fight for him, as long as I have fight in me. And I only hope that if ever I was to lose sight of things, he'd be there to fight for me and to get me to see sense. I just consider myself lucky that I found him...well, truth be told he found me."

Burt wasn't certain what to say though was saved when Finn and Rachel emerged from downstairs, blind to the blatant tense air. It was as if a spell had been broken, and the room was filled with voices once more. Blaine sat quietly for the most part; talking a little with Rachel as Finn and Burt rambled animatedly about goodness knows what.

Kurt tried to peer in only to be snapped back to the kitchen by Carole, who would clear her throat loudly, not even looking at him as she stirred the Bolognese sauce. He found it difficult to concentrate, constantly wondering what was being said to Blaine, if anything negative or embarrassing at all was brought up and so on. He honestly hoped Burt wouldn't delve into stacks of old stories that he relished in telling, like that pair of sensible heels Kurt had wanted when he was younger. Carole noticed he was distracted and decided she would exchange some words with him herself to prevent him from losing track.

"He's very handsome, Kurt," she said out of the blue, stunning Kurt into a blushing frenzy.

"Oh...uh—yeah..." Kurt stammered, focusing on the sauce as it was stirred.

"Is he your first boyfriend?"

Kurt went literally rigid at this comment. "Boyfriend? No, no we're not...I've never had a boyfriend befo—we're not officially..."

Carole shot him a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. "Kurt, you're fooling nobody with that kind of nonsense. You can tell by the way you two are together. Your body language, the way he looks at you and vice versa."

"You've only met him once," Kurt mumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Well, that just goes to show how obvious it really is, that an old girl like me can take one look at you both and know straight away," Carole giggled to herself as she turned back to her cooking. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. He's cute, and he seems like a lovely guy."

"How do you know that?" Kurt's face was bright pink.

"For starters, your father hasn't chased him out with a rifle or anything just yet, that's a first," she beamed, shaking her head. "He loves you to pieces, Kurt. He has to like this guy even just a little bit to let him stay for dinner."

Kurt absent-mindedly smoothed a finger along the stitched up wound on his palm. "I'm not sure how things stand with Blaine and me right now to be honest," he admitted quietly. "I-I hurt him."

Carole could have easily have gushed out how he couldn't have possibly hurt him and some other babble just to make him feel better. Instead however, she shrugged. "We all hurt the ones we care about from time to time. Sometimes you have to argue, you have to fight, just to get something off your chest and, at the end of the day, and it's what keeps a relationship going. You've apologised right?"

"Yes bu—"

"And he's accepted your apology?"

"Yes but tha—"

"Well there you go then. It's in the past. Now you just have to forgive yourself."

Kurt wasn't so sure he could yet didn't vocalise this. He just cut up some more onions and mushrooms and opened up a packet of spaghetti, pouring it into boiling water for Carole when she asked, trying not to think about all the bad things he'd said for it only made him feel awful. He told himself he would leave it behind him. All the bad things were in the past now, right? Karofsky would surely be expelled from McKinley, and now it was out in the open Kurt would have some form of protection. It may take a while for his physical injuries to heal, as well as those inflicted emotionally, but he wasn't going through it alone. Blaine was there. Blaine would be there for as long as he wanted. Blaine didn't hate him; he didn't make him feel terrible about what he'd done. Instead, they had acted as if it hadn't even happened. They shortly addressed it and then it was gone, it was behind them and they acted like...like any normal couple would. Kurt's heart skipped a beat and he felt the heat increase in his cheeks.

Carole called everyone to dinner once it was all set out on plates and on the small dinner table. Carole and Burt had to eat in the living room though they didn't complain at all, leaving the kitchen to Kurt, Blaine, Finn and Rachel. Kurt would never be able to express how happy he became just by eating a meal with Blaine. It was the first time he'd really come over to his house, and just eating beside him made him feel like they were a real couple now. He reached out with a free hand to brush his fingers over the roof of Blaine's hand. The Dalton student started at the unexpected touch, but not so much to draw attention from Rachel and Finn who were re-enacting a scene from Lady & the Tramp. Kurt slid his fingers in between Blaine's, locking their hands together that then hung between the two seats, Kurt's thumb lightly tracing over Blaine's. Blaine wouldn't stop a quirk that twitched the corner of his mouth as he thought: _**soft hands...**_

The door knocked loudly, surprising everyone apart from Rachel who hopped to her feet, mentioning it must be one of her dads picking her up. Finn dazedly got up and followed her to the door. Kurt and Blaine turned to one another, finally somewhat alone. The corners of Kurt's rose-pink lips rose and Blaine returned it, letting down his fork quiet as possible and ghosted his palm over the other's cheek, gentle not to stir any bruises that may have been blended by the low-lighting of the kitchen. Then very slowly, Blaine leaned forwards and smoothed his lips against Kurt's supple ones. The kiss was small, a peck really, but a sensual one where the mouths grazed slightly over one another before parting again. Kurt pressed his forehead against Blaine's, the Warbler's nose pressed right next to his, every facial feature opposite one another, so close their eyelashes touched when they opened their eyes.

"Kurt?"

They drew apart at the sound of Finn's perplexed and unusually high voice. Kurt was uncomfortable with going alone, and as it was clear to Blaine, the two rose from their seats and went into the living-room together, not exactly holding hands though their knuckles were touching the entire way there. Kurt's high spirits suddenly crashed down as he saw officers Cray and Bradley standing at his front door, appearing very anxious and uneasy. Rachel and Finn stood at the left side of the doorway, Burt and Carole at the right, with Kurt and Blaine standing right at the centre of it in front of the policemen, feeling apprehensive and confused.

"Mr. Hummel," Cray said, addressing Kurt. "We have to ask you a few questions."

"Like what?" Burt snapped before Kurt could say anything.

Cray and Bradley were reluctant to involve Burt Hummel though knew they would have to as Kurt was underage. Bradley asked if he, Burt and Kurt could speak in the other room, to which they all agreed even though Kurt was hesitant to leave Blaine's side again. As soon as they were alone, Bradley cut to the chase.

"David Karofsky has made a claim against you," Bradley explained lowly.

"Like what? That my son asked to be beaten half to death?" Burt demanded hotly, chuffing out his chest.

"You're actually not far from wrong," Bradley replied glumly, looking at Kurt with great sympathy written over his face. "He's...he's claiming that Mr. Hummel sexually harassed him to the point of having to react with violence."

Kurt's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. At first, he couldn't grasp what sort of claim Karofsky could make against him, what could he have possibly said, and then realised he could have said anything he wanted. Kurt never reported Karofsky kissing him, he didn't tell anyone but Blaine at the time. He just pretended it was your average homophobic bullying case, that nothing else was going on behind the scenes.

"_**He said he'd kill me if I told anyone..."**_

"_**Told anyone what?"**_

"_**Just...that he was giving me a hard time." **_

That story could have easily been manipulated, that it was Kurt who had made the first move; that it was Kurt who was making up allegations to get Karofsky in trouble to avoid being caught out. His heart sank. They must have asked Karofsky straight out if he was gay, if he had been secretly harbouring feelings for him and he lashed out with that response to avoid being outed. The colour in Kurt's face drained out, as well as all of the hope that things would return to normal very soon...

**TBC**

**This wasn't updated for a very long time due to the fact I was ill and very busy. I apologise for that and I hope you guys haven't given up on this story. As you can see, this chapter was started a while ago and was just never picked up on while I was getting better and personal issues. I couldn't get a direct quote from 'Furt' when Kurt says why Dave threatened him, concealing that he'd been kissed, as the site I used to watch the episodes on has suddenly disappeared so I'm sorry if it isn't absolutely 100%. But at least some good came out of this chapter, Klaine is back on and that, my friends, is always good ~Maisy-Shane **


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